Paya's Blessing
by GrayHuntress
Summary: Continuation of Paya's House. Sally faces significant challenges on Yaut with her new Consort, Sig'dan and raising pups. Sig'dan's pup-bearer makes a bold decision. M for mature themes.
1. Prologue

**Oh goodness, everyone knows that I don't own the Predators, or Yaut, or the Aliens, or anything but my Prius :) And whatever twisting turning plots and characters I invent along the way. Truely, after all I have read, sometimes I wonder if ANY of my sentences are original! LOL 'See Sally run'**

**Prologue**

"_**The evolution of the brain not only overshot the needs of prehistoric man, it is the only example of evolution providing a species with an organ which it does not know how**_ _**to use." – Arthur Koestler**_

The team of three scientists, plus the three crewmembers it took to run the ship made up the total complement of the small exploration vessel. The ship had been out of space dock for three months, roaming the galaxy in search of planets with the proper life forms.

What they were seeking were creatures that lived in an environment changeable enough to stimulate evolution for their experiments. A planet with a calm unchallenging environment led to an evolutionary path that was slow and often unvaried for far too long a time for these impatient explorers. A new, unclassified life-bearing world was directly ahead as reported by their long-range sensors. The planet had significant land as well as water masses with tropical, temperate and polar regions. The planet's surface was composed of an outer layer of solid rock that essentially floated on a sea of subsurface liquid rock. Better still, the outer layer was fractured which meant that the large pieces were constantly in motion over time. Sometimes they might buckle as one shoved up against another, other times one piece's edge might actually be shoved up and over another. The movement of the planet's surface made for an environment of constant geologic change which would bring the creatures living there under considerable stress from time to time as the movements resulted in environmental impacts. Additionally, along the seams where the pieces met, sudden slippages often occurred as well as eruptions of the liquid rock below onto the solid surface. Plus, the planet had a large moon, large enough to create tides within its watery areas. This action along with the waves would eat away at the land masses, also furthering change.

All in all, the scientists agreed it might be a very suitable setting for their experimentation. So the crew ferried them to the surface and set down on one of the planet's flat plains near an area populated by towering plants. There was a large body of fresh water nearby which might attract animals. The crew and scientists ventured out of the ship, armed in case of danger, and began the short trek to the water's edge on the side of the lake where the taller plants grew. With the water and the varied plant life there, the probability increased that a great variety of creatures would be found.

They settled themselves down in the shorter plants that waved in the slight breeze and began their stake-out for quarry. The hot sun beat down, and soon tiny native crawling and flying life-forms found them and began to pester with biting and stinging. The crew and scientists were not deterred however, and endured the small torture wordlessly still waiting for something larger to show up.

It was towards the waning of the smallish yellow sun that gave life to this planet that the first of many creatures began to come for water. The group watched as various herbivores came to drink, distinguished from predators, in their experience, because of their visual sensors set on the sides of their heads, not the front. Always on the alert for predators, the different four-legged species came, satisfied their thirst and then left, never knowing how closely they were being observed, so still and camouflaged the clever space farers were.

Finally, after all the herbivores left, what they had been seeking made its way to the water. It was the first predator they had witnessed as its vision was in a straight focused line in front of it's body. It also was the first animal that was more like themselves – it walked usually upright on two legs, rarely dropping down to use long arms to assist in locomotion. The short creature ventured towards the water, nervously looking about as if searching for danger. When none was discovered, it gave a soft cry and several dozen of its fellow creatures returned the call from high up in the tall plants. Then there was movement out of tops of the tall growth as a group of the animals climbed down and onto the plain. Many appeared to be female because they carried young on their backs or in their arms. As a group they trooped, each on two legs, to the life-sustaining water and began to not only drink, but fill hollow tubes made from plant stems to take back with them.

The scientists continued to watch as several of the creatures dug in the river mud for small live things they consumed, others grouped together and managed to chase small water-dwellers up onto the mud near the shore where they could then be grabbed by others in the group. Those still in the water that had done all the work ran up onto the bank to grab some for themselves, the larger ones shoving the smaller aside with threatening growls.

The scientists were impressed, the creatures were not only obvious predators, but capable of utilizing objects in the environment, as well as cooperating, to meet their needs. The crew was not impressed as the creatures had no protruding fangs or claws, nor were they of any decent size. In short, the small upright animals looked like easy prey. But the crew did not have the eyes of the scientists, nor did they understand the nature of the experiment.

Carefully, the capture nets were fired, entangling several female specimens. One had a child that yowled and clung to her, the other was alone. The crew raced to assist in holding them via a neck noose on a longish pole. Once they had pinned the animal to the ground under their weight, they worked the net off the head and quickly slipped the noose around the neck. Thus they were able to control the comparatively weak creatures and keep them at arms length. No sense risking the possibility of a nasty bite. Once under control, they walked/dragged them to the ship, lifted them for a choking instant via the noose and placed them on the examination table.

There, the scientists grabbed the struggling limbs, banding and clamping each to the table, then the noose could be released. Intense fear along with anger came from the creatures, especially the one with a child as she struggled to free herself not knowing what her captors had done with her offspring. One of them was holding it as it shrieked, petting it's head and murmuring something. When it did not settle, the small one was placed in a cage, within eyesight of the mother.

Test after test began, sample after sample taken, until the scientists were satisfied they understood enough about the females to administer a sedative to them. This quieted and calmed the ship lab greatly to the relief of everyone aboard. The ship's complement took a break for a bite to eat and some time for the scientists to discuss what they had learned.

The project leader took a long draught from his tankard before speaking to his fellow scientists, "Honorable Brothers, it is my belief that this creature has great potential. It has a large brain size to begin with, and with the combination of our genetic material, it may well be stimulated to grow even larger and become more aggressive. We will perform only small infusions on these two females and then capture more and infuse them. We will monitor the outcome as they bear offspring over what may well be a lengthy period of time and observe what changes occur to them in this environment. If a desirable specimen evolves, we will infuse it again with more of our genetic qualities and when we are satisfied, we will distribute it to favorable areas on the planet for its continued growth. This may well be a significant step in our goal of creating the ultimate prey creature to hunt." His fellows agreed with nods and mandible clicks as they all raised their tankards in salute to the goal.

* * *

The paleontologist was excited, two weeks ago he and his team had been searching for fossils in Northern Ethopia when they had made an extraordinary find – the remnants of yet another pre-primate specimen and it was fairly intact. It was locked and fossilized in a layer of ancient river mud that had turned to rock. Carefully they began using their ultra-modern tools, graciously funded by government grants, to melt the rock around the find and begin to expose it to examination. Luckily, so far the skull appeared mostly intact as the unfossilized rock fell away from the portion that was the fossil. Several leg and pelvic bones were unveiled, showing the pre-primate to have walked upright and been quite strong and vigorous. In fact, based upon the femur and tibia length, it was believed that this potential ancestor of modern apes and humans had been around six feet tall! Bizarrely tall for a pre-primate of this period – a giant in actuality! As the face began to appear it was plain to see that something wasn't quite right with this specimen. Perhaps it had been deformed, or suffered an injury, and had been even cast off from the family group.

The rock continued melting as more and more of the face became visible. Soon, the entire face and jaw were exposed. The paleontologist sat the melting tool down on the ground and just stared at the face, a structure that had not been witnessed by the light of day for thousands and thousands of years.

How could this be? How could it have evolved to this state? There were no known predecessors for it, nor had its evolutionary line led to anything else that had yet been discovered. He was looking at a complete anomaly that seemed to bust open wide all the neat tree branches that led from the first lemur-like creature up into modern homo sapiens or side-branched into oblivion.

He continued to stare at the round skull that had a very large cranium and slightly back-sloping forehead over prominent brows that led to a very small nasal opening. Here and there he could see a pattern of scales! But it was the rest of the face that held him in incredulity, for rather than the normal jaw and teeth, it had what appeared to be four separate jawbones that articulated from the sides, two top and two bottom, over a more normal upper and lower mandible set with rather pointed anterior teeth leading to posterior molars. From each of the outer jaws free ends grew a large pointed canine tooth.

He racked his brain regarding the implications. Somewhere along the trail, how had nature selected pre-primate mammalian species for mandibles? How could that have happened with no preceding evidence for it and no evidence of it today? He pondered further until he was struck by something. Was there indeed evidence today? His mind took a leap out of his field, was this the underlying ancient genetic instruction that still sometimes appeared in modern humans as cleft palate and cleft lip? He wondered.

**A/N: I'm excited about sharing this new story with you! I will update regularly, but will not guarantee weekly updates as before. I don't want to feel trapped into publishing a chapter before it is ready for your consumption. I look forward to reading your comments about this tale. If you've not read the first story, Paya's House, I encourage you to read it first in order for this story to make more sense.**


	2. The Seeds of Tomorrow

**Chapter 1: The Seeds of Tomorrow**

"_**The trouble with our times is that the future is not what it used to be"**_

**-Paul Valery**

Sally was making her customary visit to the well guarded and tended pup vats. Those fleshly Yautja miracle creations made from her own cells that served as wombs for her twenty growing pups. Nodding politely to the sentries, she entered the room and walked down the rows of her soon-to-be-visible children, visiting each one by talking to it in low motherly murmurs, oblivious to the questioning eyes of the room's guards. She was the Matriarch, there was no explanation needed.

Early on, her foreign behavior had been dutifully reported to the High Council in a report made by those on picket and her personal Healer, Myn'dill, was questioned about it. After his explanation that she was merely bonding with her young as any good Bearer would do, the Council went on to other business.

"My sweet, my Arndis," she addressed the yet unseen pup and placed a gentle, disinfected hand upon its container, "I know that you'll grow up to be strong and brave. You'll have wisdom as great as the Matriarch your father named you for. You'll understand how to lead these Hunters and keep them on the path of honor."

Walking over to the next growing chamber, she touched and addressed it also. "Beautiful Ulfrde, you'll be as brave and as honorable as your father. You'll carry on in his tradition and live up to his name." Then, looking back at the pup she had just left, she acknowledged, "I know he would have been proud of both of you." A smile suddenly appeared on her face and she placed both her hands upon the growth capsule of Ulfrde, waiting for a time as though silently communing with it.

She went on to each fetal pup and addressed it by name, speaking wonderful things about the future that she wished for it. It helped her greatly to think of her children and her high hopes for them. Focusing on them eased the hollow pain inside her that Ulfr had once filled with his larger-than-life presence. She didn't care how silly it might look to the Yautja, watching her speak to each organic vat as though it could understand, because Myn'dill had assured her that the pups could already hear her voice and would use it, once born, to recognize her as their Bearer. He also told her that they would know her by the heartbeat transmitted from her hand through the womb to their already sensitive hearing.

The pups were strong, Myn'dill reported to her, and each was extremely healthy. Their Yautja genes had come well to the forefront and there would be no rejects among them. Sally was relieved at that news. She did not know how she would have handled things if any of her children were to be relegated to being aseigan – or worse. Everyone had their place in this society and protectively she wanted the very best for her daughters. To herself, she was amazed at the powerful maternal instincts that had risen to the forefront as her realization grew that each vat contained a living portion of herself – however shoved into the background by Yautja genetics it resided.

So every day she came at least once, sometimes more, and spoke with the younglings, giving them her encouragement and her care. She did not use the word 'love', although she felt it in her heart. She had not yet heard any word like that in the Yautja language and realized that she needed to ask Sig'dan about it – or her impending Consort.

Thoughts and questions about the Consort worriedly wound around her like the silk spun by a spider covering a captured fly. She had compulsively learned all she could about this Hunter, this Arbitrator and Elite Elder that was to become such an intimate part of her life. There were detailed descriptions of his feats and even visual recordings to view. She had watched in amazement as the huge Yautja had sparred with a slightly shorter, but tough, opponent and easily won. His grace belied his size, and while not quite as quick as the opponent he faced there seemed an almost sixth sense about him. He knew what his challenger was going to do next and met him blow for blow, tiring and overcoming him with seemingly little exertion himself.

Her first impression upon seeing him in one of the recordings of the kehrite had been simply his imposing mass. He was easily the largest Hunter there, standing with the others waiting his turn to spar. His mottling was darker than Ulfr and it seemed that his coloring had been passed on to Sig'dan more than the departed Elder. The Arbitrator's locks were a striking silver-white and gleamed down his front and back like a graceful draping halo streaming from his head. The recording held him at a distance, but she thought she saw many rings and heard them clinking out his reputation. His broad shoulders were held proudly and his posture was that of one who compelled respect, reminding her of Ulfr's air of command. Saddened at the memory, she had shut the viewer off, deciding to finish watching it another time.

The celebrated Arbitrator had been approached by the High Council, even as Ulfr had taken his final journey to the Blue Planet, where they had respectfully made Sally's bid to him to become her Consort. He had agreed after some initial doubt and several cycles of thought, and was now on his way to Yaut to participate in the bonding ceremony that would take place in only a few cycles.

Sally tried not to panic as there was very little time to study and prepare. She needed to learn the ritual - the proper words and procedure, and the ceremonial clothing needed to be made. During the ceremony, Sig'dan would stand with them to translate for her and for the Arbitrator. She was dismayed to learn that her future Consort spoke very little English or any other Earth language. How would she ever get to know him in private?

She was also distressed that there was to be no meeting with him before the rite took place, and worked on steadying her nerves. She was determined to be every bit the Matriarch in his presence and in front of the High Council. _The only Arbitrators I have seen were the ones in the street accompanying Gagr to the Council Hall for execution. I remember their black armor and how imposing they were. But in the great crowd and commotion I couldn't see clearly. He is an Elder, I wonder how old he is? Just how damn big is he? And how damn big is IT? _

_Ulfr said his father was a very honorable Hunter and formidable in the arena. He'd damn well better submit to me – and be respectful. Who am I kidding? Who in hell could I threaten to mate with that would oppose him, like I did Ulfr? But then…Ulfr wasn't well back then. He must have been ill the entire time I knew him. How much of what happened between us was because he was sick? _

The heavy slogging mud of depression oozed up around the Matriarch, pulling her spirits down into the dark soil beneath the floor she stood upon as she contemplated her memories of Ulfr, wondering what he would have thought of her and how he would have acted toward her had he been well. _I can't change the past. I can only go on and try my best to do what seems honorable and right. God, I miss him!_

She caught herself just as tears were forming. The guards were now staring at her as she emitted the scent of mourning. They wondered why she was so sad over her pups. It would not cross their minds that her grief was for the lost Elder Hunter. He had died an honorable death and was enjoying the afterlife with Cetanu. What was there to mourn? Finished communing with her children, she quietly left the room as the guards nodded respectfully to her, and returned to her quarters accompanied by the recently reassigned mountainous shadows of Yin and Yang.

The Yautja version of a tailor was visiting shortly to measure and create her ceremonial clothing for the bonding ceremony. Sig'dan had explained to her that white was Paya's color, so she would wear white. The tailor would be bringing several different materials for her to choose from, take measurements and then leave. There would be a final fitting tomorrow. _He must be going to work all night to create this for me, _she thought to herself. _This feels like a wedding. A shotgun wedding, maybe._

Sig'dan was waiting for her outside of the officially assigned Matriarch's dwelling to act as translator for the tailor. In spite of the fact that every Yautja went to a tailor for clothing, the job was considered to be of a lower class. This male had probably not had very many, if any, mating opportunities, Sig'dan had explained earlier, and he probably would not be able to speak with her.

She finished pulling herself together as she saw her mate standing at her door. He was as handsome as ever in nothing but his loincloth and light armor. Had he grown a little taller since she had first met him? His well banded locks sprouted in perfect symmetry from the sides and back of his ridged crown and came down to just over his shoulders. They would grow his entire life, exposing new sleek blackness to sport more rings as he matured. The squarely broad shoulders that parted his locks looked even more impressive topped with the pewter colored overlapping scales of his armor. Buckled leather lengths crossed the top of his pectorals, strapping the armor to his body. The rest of his beautifully muscled chest was bare and Sally's admiring eyes could feast upon the contours and often-fondled causeway of stubbly locks that ran down his mid-line to disappear under his cloth.

Yin and Yang assumed their positions as statues on each side of the doorway, as Sally and Sig'dan entered her abode. She turned to him, seeking the reassurance of his embrace. "How was your visit with the pups?" he queried from over her head as his arms encircled her.

"Good. I think I felt one move!" she said excitedly, returning his desire for closeness with her own arms and then moving back so she could converse with him.

"Sei, you will eventually feel all of them move as they grow larger." He appreciated her enthusiasm for the growing young ones. "Which one did you feel?"

"Ulfrde. I think she is going to be the largest of them. I can't wait to see them and hold them!"

"I am anxious to greet them also. The latest data says that it will be another five moons before they are ready to come out. Can you wait that long?" he teased her, scenting the bit of previous sorrow still clinging to her.

"Looks like I have to," she smiled at him. "I'm thanking God and Paya that I'm not physically carrying any of them though – those vats are HUGE! I can't imagine how any of the human women carry them to term."

"Myn'dill told me that the ooman females are often confined to bed during the last part of the pregnancy. These artificial wombs were constructed to be the size of a normal Yautja womb in order to allow the pups to develop completely normally within the natural period of time. The standard Yautja pregnancy will be perfectly imitated. Pups born of ooman females are not as large at birth as these will be."

"They're not? Then, do you know why they have to be delivered via C-section?"

"C-section? I am not familiar with that term."

"Oh…by surgery, Sig'dan. Why do the human-carried pups have to be delivered surgically?"

"The head size would never pass through the ooman birth orifice. Both Bearer and pup would die."

"That makes sense. Human children…pups have large heads at birth also – but they usually are not so large that they cannot be born," she grinned a little.

"Our pup's heads are large," he made a chortle at her, "to contain their large brains. I am certain that the bumps made by the buttons of their lock growth spots add to the size also."

The tailor arrived promptly, lugging bundles of white cloth through the doorway. He was rather short and squat for a Hunter although he did bear a Clan mark on his forehead. Sally figured that he had probably not done very well in the arena and that accounted for his low social rank. Sig'dan saw her assessing him and scented her curiosity.

"Matriarch, do you wonder about this Hunter?"

"Sig'dan!" she seemed embarrassed, 'I can't talk about him like he's not here!"

"Sal'lee," he explained, "he cannot understand us. Ask your questions, he will think we are talking about the cloth, or the ceremony."

Sig'dan had been the Matriarch's nearly constant companion through these past three moons of cycles as she began to weave her way through the complexities of this alien culture and prepare for the life ahead of her. Yin and Yang once again provided for her physical safety, but it was Sig'dan who was her source of information and translator as well as providing respite during this trying time.

He had mourned too, but had taken his brother's death in stride as all Hunters do. Death was merely the completion of the cycle set in motion at birth. Death made room for the unfolding of more life in its ever increasing complexity and variation. The round of Paya and Cetanu was a holy thing to be looked upon in wonder and appreciation.

"Well, I was thinking that he is a little…a little small and even a bit chubby for a Hunter."

Sig'dan had to stifle his laughter. "Sei, he is shorter than most of us. But what does 'chubby' mean?"

"Uh…that means fat, Sig'dan. He's fatter than any other Hunter I've seen. And I want to know about his rank in society and how he became a tailor."

"You are always curious about us, Sal'lee. That is good. You learn that way," the Hunter opened his lower mandibles fondly at her. "His height is genetic and no fault of his own. It may have placed him at a disadvantage although I have met Hunters before who were short and excelled in the arena and on the hunt. What they lacked in height they made up for in speed, agility and stealth. Let me ask him."

Sally was horrified, "Sig'dan – don't!"

Sig'dan turned his questioning waving face to Sally. "You don't want to know about him?"

"I don't want you to embarrass him by asking personal questions."

"Sally, I am mannerly. I will not ask this honorable Yautja anything that will embarrass him!" his mandibles opened in slight assertion.

"Okay. Sorry. I was thinking in terms of Earth manners. I certainly didn't mean to offend you."

"I am not offended," he offered gently as he turned to the tailor who was patiently waiting, holding his large cloth bundle until his customer had finished obviously dressing down this Hunter. The tailor wondered how the Hunter had affronted the Matriarch but wisely stayed quiet. Sig'dan conversed with the tailor for a bit as he set down his wares and began opening each cloth and spreading it out over the table for the Matriarch to examine.

"Sal'lee, he would like for you to look at the cloth and pick one that you like."

Sally began running her hand over the different types of cloth, picking one up after another and holding it to the light enjoying the texture and drape of each one. "Did you find out anything about him?"

"He found at an early age, before he went to the trainers, that he enjoyed cloth, leather and fur. He practiced making things in secret to avoid the teasing of his peers until he went to his Chiva. After passing, he made his own choice to become a maker of clothing. It is an honorable, though not esteemed, profession."

"He did? That's great, Sig'dan. I like that," she smiled at the tailor. He opened his upper mandibles a little and seemingly beamed back at her.

"This one," she held up a silken like cloth of purest whiteness. "What do you think, Sig'dan?" She tried not to falter as she recalled the teal cloth in the market with Ulfr.

"That is a perfect choice, Matriarch. It will look…beautiful on you."

The uncontrolled tears formed in Sally's eyes. She took the cloth and gave it to the tailor with a nod and turned her back to Sig'dan as the stout tailor remade his fabric bundles, chittering and growling regarding when he would be back for the final fitting to the young Hunter.

Sig'dan came up behind Sally and placed the strength of arms around her, saying nothing as he scented her grief. "I'm okay, Sig'dan. It just gets to me sometimes. I'll be okay."

He pulled her to him a little more strongly to reassure her and softly massaged the top of her head with the bottom of his chin.

"You know, you're going to give me a bald spot someday!" she chided humorously.

"Ah, that will make you look more Yautja," he teased.

* * *

The reddish purple streaks of a setting sun bathed the rocky landscape in gaudiness. As the shadows lengthened, one of them moved away from the rocks towards a small metal craft, deadly with weaponry. As the shadow grew closer, strong legs could be seen stepping up the stony platforms to where the lethal ebony ship sat. Once on the plateau, the full form of an imposing figure could be seen as the Arbitrator entered his vessel, his task finished on the trivial planetoid. A black cloak, signifying profession and rank, hung from his strong shoulders – the final curtain of death to any and all Badbloods who were hunted by him. Silvery locks dripped down over his back and chest, exceptionally long and punctuated with the many rings signifying his achievements. Here and there, a tiny skull rode upon a lock between the many metal bands.

Elite Elder Arbitrator Aldúlfr sat in the command chair and clicked on the console with his formidable talons, setting in the coordinates for the Homeworld. He was ready to undertake a journey to Yaut and complete the binding ceremony with the new Matriarch as her chosen Consort. After that, he would determine how much he would let this new role interfere with his life.

He had been surprised when his offspring, Honorable Ulfr, had contacted him with the request. What an odd last request – for him to become Consort to his offspring's ooman rut interest, an ooman who he claimed had been declared a Matriarch! At first, the Arbitrator had thought his offspring was either engaged in some outrageous treachery or not right in the head from his illness, but a quick check with his Elder on the High Council had confirmed the story – the High Council had indeed selected an ooman female to ascend to the rank of Matriarch.

Ulfr had told him much of the female, of her bravery and surprising understanding of honor. His offspring had sent him recordings from the High Council proceedings and Aldúlfr had witnessed her businesslike composure with the Council Elders, as well as her control over his two bloodline sons who submitted almost as though she were a Yautja. When the High Council officially made their request on behalf of the Matriarch, he made an inquiry of his own and contacted the respected and honored offspring of a valued Hunt Brother, Honorable Healer Myndill.

Myndill recognized and was surprised to see the Elder Arbitrator and Sire of his former mission Elder on the com screen. What this highly ranked executor of the law wanted with him, he could not fathom. Glad that the Elder could not scent his nervousness through the screen, he lowered his eyes and head most respectfully.

"Honorable Healer, I am the Arbitrator, Elder Aldúlfr. I wish to question you regarding the ooman Matriarch."

"I am honored to be of whatever assistance I can," Myn'dill replied.

"Is she honorable?" the Arbitrator queried.

"I believe that for her species, she has a far greater understanding of honor than would be expected."

"Trustworthy?"

The Healer thought for a moment before answering, "I trust her to do what she thinks is best in any situation. She has shown that she will put herself at great risk in order to do what is honorable, and is willing to submit to the consequences of her actions." Myn'dill was becoming curious as to why the Arbitrator was asking all these questions.

"Is she capable of discretion in what she reveals?"

Now Myn'dill's interest was completely peaked. Was the Matriarch's future Consort going to embellish her with the secrets of the Arbitrators? "Sei, my Elder. She has an understanding of what is proper and also great composure, from what I have witnessed."

"You are her personal Healer?"

"I am, most Honorable Elder."

"Would you be my Healer, if I become Consort?" the Elder crisply requested.

"It would be my privilege," Myn'dill replied. As he finished speaking the com went dark, leaving a very curious Healer pondering the conversation.

To be Consort was not an honor the feared Elder Arbitrator would have sought for himself, preferring the excitement of the hunt to the tameness of politics on Yaut. But now it was dropped upon him as easily as a fired capture net. He was not concerned that he was somehow a victim of circumstance, but he was leery of what such a life might offer him. True, he was getting on in years but his strength had not yet failed him and his mind was still quick. He evaluated that even though he was an Elder, he would still easily outlive the ooman female and his significant reputation would be shined further by having been her Consort. He could then return to the only profession that brought him pleasure – being an Arbitrator. No other prey satisfied as deeply or as profoundly as his own kind. In the end he had accepted the Matriarch's request and found himself now on his way to the Homeworld.

The Matriarch, as he had viewed her in the recordings, was a fairly average ooman. She was on the tall side for her sex, but still much smaller than an Elder Yautja. She wore the clothing of a Yautja female, and did so without looking completely absurd, he decided. Not a horrible face, but certainly she would never be beautiful. He still wasn't sure just what his two offspring saw in her, but being her Consort would not be a thing to object to, and would certainly further his greatness and the reputation of his line. The fact that she could not naturally bare him pups had been countered by an offer to let him Sire a few of her vat-grown offspring, for which he intended to enlist Myn'dill's help.

The Arbitrator clicked thoughtfully as he thought of his two sons. Ulfr had done very well for the family line bringing great honor for his deeds. He was not surprised as this particular offspring had always performed well both in physical endeavors as well as those requiring intellect. He had often garnered reports on young Ulfr from his trainers as he was usually off wandering the Universe in search of some Badblood to bleed out and send to Hel. He felt a moment of regret that he had not spent more time with this one before he went to Cetanu, but the past could not be relived, he reasoned.

Now, Sig'dan – that was a surprise. That his firstborn hybrid offspring had brought such honor to his line with his dispatch of the suffering Ancient, and had been part of the crew that set things right at that ooman place of abomination was truly a pleasant revelation. And he was also credited with the discovery of what caused the disease of the Ancients! He had not expected that much from a hybrid. He was looking forward to something enjoyable after the disappointment of this hunt. Meeting with his offspring, the young Healer who had also rutted the Matriarch, might just be that enjoyment. _So much accomplished for one so young! And only half Hunter at that, _he mused.

As the ship hurtled from the planetoid on a trajectory to Yaut, the Arbitrator thought over his latest judgment. That the Yautja he had just completed killing had turned Badblood so early in life was a great waste - a waste of all of the effort and time of raising and training him. Even the rut that had created him was a waste, the Arbitrator quickly decided.

The young Hunter had been on Chiva and, having made no kill of his own, had claimed the kill of another. The rightful possessor of the trophy had bravely defended his ownership of the Kiande Amedha skull and had been shamefully murdered by the Badblood. The dishonor he brought to his line was so great that the Badblood's own Sire had requested Aldúlfr to go after him as he blotted his offspring's name from the record books. The Sire, being an old Hunt Brother of the Arbitrator's, was not refused – even though the mission was a small one.

The brains of c'jit UnBlood was barely out of puphood, in the Arbitrator's opinion, and he was dismayed to find that the young one ran and attempted to hide rather than face him like a Hunter. Aldúlfr harvested him for the darkness with a single swipe and dissolved the body without taking what would have been a worthless trophy. He made a simple report to the Sire from his command console, 'Honor is served,' and piloted his swift craft towards home, grateful to Paya that none of his offspring had so shamed him.

* * *

The next cycle's morning, Sig'dan was going to meet Honorable Myn'dill at the Healer's invitation. The Healer had not had much opportunity to speak with the younger Healer-in-training, who was very near to receiving his formal recognition as a full Healer. Myn'dill wanted to speak with him about that and also see how the young Hunter was fairing since Ulfr's death. _s_ His loyalty to his previous mission Elder extended to the younger brother who had also been part of the crew.

It was not quite daybreak as the young Hunter turned down the wide pavered path that led to the Healer's dwelling. He was absorbed in thinking about his enjoyment at seeing the Healer again and not totally aware of his surroundings. In an instant, two large, very strong Yautja were upon him, seizing his arms and placing them in a hold to incapacitate him. They threw a fur over his head and bodily dragged him into a waiting transport which quickly levitated onto a main avenue and was gone.

Sig'dan was shocked and startled when he felt the strength of their grips upon him. He immediately made to defend himself but it was over before it began. He felt shamed as he struggled to breathe clearly under the weight of the hot fur. _I should have been on my guard! But who would be my enemy here on Yaut?_ The space between their overly warm bodies where he sat was confined, and Sig'dan had to lean forward as his arms were fastened behind him. He could look down at the floor of the craft in the small crack between his face and the draped fur. It was an oft used transport as he could see the yellow-red dirt of Yaut caked upon the floor. Slightly turning his head from side to side he could make out the feet of his abductors – huge taloned feet visible between the strips of dusty sandals. Their feet were much larger than his own, _these could be Elders, _he reasoned. He moved his head to the right just a little more and made out a bit of the greave protecting the Yautja to his right's left shin. It was a deep bottomless black. _Arbitrators! _A cold chill went through his bones, _but I have done nothing dishonorable!_

The vehicle made its way through the avenues, skirting around both pedestrians and other hover-craft in the heavily trafficked city. It veered down another street away from the residential area and took the main causeway towards the spaceport.

Inside, Sig'dan still sat between his unspeaking abductors, unable to see where they were going, wondering why they had captured him and what his fate was to be. He steadied himself and relaxed in his bonds. Tension would just eat up valuable energy. He needed to be level-headed and alert to deal with whatever was going to happen. Soon, he felt the transport slowing and then it came to a halt. He sensed the Hunters leave both of his sides and then felt their claws as they dragged him from his seat to a standing position outside the craft. Roughly, they pushed him forward and he began walking, his vision still blocked by the draped fur. He knew that questioning them would be fruitless and might garner a blow, so he remained mindful and quiet.

He felt the rise beneath his feet and looking down saw they were walking up the gangplank onto a ship. He wondered if his abduction would end here or if he were about to leave his planet. So far, none of this made any sense.

His shoulder was grasped to a halt after they had walked for some small distance inside the ship, turning down several curving corridors. Sig'dan heard the soft whoosh of a door opening and the three of them stepped into what he presumed was a room.

"Elder, we have brought you the one you requested." Sig'dan thought he felt great nods of submission and respect from the Hunters at his sides. Not knowing to whom they bowed, he simply stood and waited. He heard someone walking toward him – the sound of sandaled feet striking the ship deck and the clink of honor rings as that someone drew closer. A low rumbling growl of anger preceded the footfalls, and the young Hunter froze trying not to emit the scent of fear.

"C'jit! I ordered you to bring him, not capture him as a Badblood. Release him!"

The fur was abruptly dragged off Sig'dan's head and his arms freed. He stood blinking in the light and staring at one of the largest Yautja he'd ever beheld. Sig'dan's eyes quickly adjusted to the room's brighter light and he examined the giant that was before him. Great quill-like white locks sprouted from his brow and ran down the sides of his outer jaws. Golden eyes pierced his own and made him look quickly down to the great chest and armored shoulders. Between the armor and strapping the skin was rife with ancient faded scars.

Sig'dan still controlled his scent. It seemed this massive Hunter did not will him ill. He continued to take in the black armor and the dark cloak which dripped frosty locks loaded with honor rings and tiny skulls. _An Elder Arbitrator! _Recognition of superiority immediately brought both the young Hunter's head and eyes down in true submission to greater rank and age.

"You are Sig'dan of the Clan Od'hroer-ir and the brother of Ulfr?" the question rumbled forth in an earthquake's low groan.

"Sei, Honorable Elder, I am, or I was – Ulfr is dead."

"Do you know me?"

Sig'dan huffed cautiously; there was a familiar tinge to the Elder's scent that brought him memories of sorrow, and his quick mind deduced the colossus' identity. "I believe that you are my Sire, most Honorable Elder." Sig'dan spoke in respectful tones, keeping his focus on the floor and his head bowed low.

The Elder Arbitrator regarded his offspring. He was well sized and fit for his age and obviously intelligent. Little of the ooman genes were apparent, to the Sire's relief. He scented his offspring. This was their first meeting since he had taken the small pup from his dead Bearer's side to his oft times mate Auðr and requested that she care for him. The carrier of his lineage scented of stress and confusion, but not of fear. This satisfied the Sire and he reached his large hand to give the young Hunter a hearty shoulder shake, which Sig'dan reached up and somewhat gingerly returned.

"You have honored our line. This surprises me, but…I am satisfied," the rumble went on. "Come, drink! I have questions." The Elder dismissed Sig'dan's captors with a sour look, making them grateful that no harm had come to the Hunter they had brought in as ordered.

The offspring and his Sire seated themselves and the Elder poured them both a hefty portion of c'ntlip in intricately carved stone tankards. He raised his to Sig'dan and consecrated his drink to strength and honor, "Thar'n-da s' yin'tekai." The young Hunter raised his also and repeated the phrase. They both took a long drink as their mandibles assisted their hands in grasping the large mugs. Several swallows later, the Elder began to speak.

"You mate the ooman Matriarch?"

Sig'dan was not particularly taken aback by such a question. Hunters were usually direct with each other, especially Hunt Brothers or those of blood bond. "Sei," he answered, looking directly at the Sire, but not challenging by staring into his intensely golden eyes.

"Will you defer to me as Consort?"

Sig'dan felt himself involuntarily tense as his mind pictured his Sally beneath the grunting thrusts of the Arbitrator. He shook off the image and stonily looked at the tabletop where his drink sat. "Sei, you will be the Consort, and your demands for her will be primary, my Elder." He knew that this was for Sally's protection and had been wisely set in motion by the ailing Elder Ulfr before his death. He would now have to accept his Sire as her rut mate, rather than his brother. He knew, intimately in fact, of his brother's deep care for Sally and that he had never caused her true injury during their intimate moments. His Sire was an unknown quantity in this respect which troubled the Hunter.

The Elder simply nodded his recognition of Sig'dan's words and then asked, "I trust your honor, yet I scent your distress." He saw his offspring's hesitation to answer and countered that with, "Do not hide from me."

"My Elder," Sig'dan began, "Sal'lee, the Matriarch…she gave herself, of her own accord, to me when I was on the Blue Planet for my first rut. Ulfr assisted us. She became a Hunt Brother in ceremony, by Ulfr's command, and…we continue to see each other."

The Arbitrator nursed his drink, saying nothing, concealing his surprise. It was not unheard of for an ooman to give herself to a Hunter, but it was extremely rare. He searched his mind for any recollection of an ooman participating in the Hunt Brother bonding and found none. He interest in meeting her now peaked, this female who had assisted his hybrid issue.

"Some of her pups are sired by Ulfr?"

"Sei, Elder. There are two still-enwombed new females in the line of our Clan."

Changing the subject, the Elder asked, "How were you captured by my Arbitrators?"

Sig'dan felt the shame again, "I…was on my way to visit a Hunt Brother and did not notice them. They…surprised me." The young Hunter felt the scrutiny of his Sire's gaze upon him and steadied himself for a possibly physical reprimand. Only silence and the sensation of the Elder's stare answered his preparation. After a space of quiet, the Elder spoke.

"You still need work. I will train you. My blood line must not be so easily captured," he stated seriously.

"You honor me," Sig'dan replied, amazed that after all these cycles his Sire was going to pay attention to him, while hoping he was up to the challenge.


	3. Whom Shall I Fear?

**Chapter 2: Whom Shall I Fear?**

"_**Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood." **_**- Marie Curie**

It was difficult sometimes to believe that events had actually happened. When she was alone, Mel secretly pinched her sun-browned arm to make sure this was not a dream, but the growing bump where her once flat abdomen had been assured her of the truth. She smoothed over the convexity between her hipbones and tried to imagine how big it might be by now and what it might look like. Any image she managed to conjure up either frightened or disgusted her, and she wondered if she would ever discover any motherly feelings for it.

She had felt no movement yet, although the alien physician had assured her that it was still very small, and that most of her protrusion was from the large placenta that had formed in order to supply the great demands of the pup. She could picture it as a tiny spaceman floating in a universe of liquid, kept in tether by the long and twisting umbilical cord. She preferred it that way, picturing a doll sized white NASA space suit with a reflective visor and no face.

She struggled to dress, stretching the elastic of the frumpy brown slacks she had picked up from the Salvation Army over her rounded waistline and topping it with an old tee of her Dad's. She would have liked to have had some real maternity clothes, but the family budget was tight. No matter how much she hated going out in public in her shabby outfits, she was delighted to be home! So she never complained to anyone but her mirror.

Pulling on a pair of sole-worn running shoes, she left her small bedroom and went into the kitchen. "Good mornin', honey!" her mother greeted with her usual cheery smile and slight western drawl. "Did you sleep well? Grab a biscuit, they're still warm, and there's some honey – your favorite!"

"Thanks, Mom. Yea, I slept well. Where's Dad and Jase?"

"Your Dad's workin' cattle this morning, hon, there's a crop of new calves to dehorn, worm, vaccinate and castrate, you know. Couple of neighbors came to help, so now I got to fix 'em a decent lunch. You feel up to helpin'? Oh, your brother is out there, supervisin'." She finished the sentence with a knowing chuckle.

Jason, or Jase as he was called, was only five and too small to be of any help with the cattle, however; he loved to watch. He made sure to follow his father's instructions and stay on the outside of the large working pen and away from the rails. His sandy brown eyes were shaded by his cowboy hat, a Christmas present last year from his folks, and they excitedly watched the neighbors help his father herd the cattle single file through the working chute into the squeeze cage. Then they were vaccinated or whatever needed to be done according to their age and gender.

The sturdy ranching couple had thought that Melanie would be their single offspring, but nature surprised them with a son late in life. Melanie was fifteen when he was born and had helped raise him. He thought of her more as his second mother rather than as a sister. She was fine with that, but sometimes felt her teenage years had been burdened with his care.

Mel had been looking forward to moving to the city after graduation and embarking on a social service career. She had just completed her junior year of college at state and had been on summer break when her plans had been completely derailed by her abduction and the unwanted pregnancy.

"Sure, Mom. What can I do?" Mel joined her mother at the scratched steel sink where she was handed a bowl of unpeeled spuds and a metal potato peeler. She scrubbed the brown oblong lumps and then sent their peels falling as she skillfully skinned them.

Her mother went to the refrigerator to remove a large raw chicken which she had culled from the household flock and plucked earlier that morning. She began to cut it up and throw the pieces into the stock pot where the previously chopped onions and carrots were already boiling on the old stove. "Nothin' like a good ole pot of chicken and dumplins'," she commented as she began to prepare the floury dough that would form the dumplings. "Mel, tomorrow's Sunday. You feel up ta goin' to church? Your granddad's expectin' you ya know."

Melanie didn't reply but surprised her mother as she bolted for the bathroom, her biscuit with honey promising to make a reappearance. She leaned over the commode and emptied her stomach in one great heave, then stood with a hand on the nearby sink, waiting for the queasiness to die down. Rinsing the sourness from her mouth, she remembered that the crustacean-countenanced doctor had told her this might happen and she reached in the medicine cabinet for the container of pills that he insisted she take with her. _One pill, take one pill every morning, _she remembered the directions. She flipped open the topper and shook out one of the round gray pills that reminded her of a well-fed dog tick. _That doesn't look appetizing. But Dr. Crab-lips said if I don't take care of myself and this baby they would take me back to their planet._ Mel somberly swallowed the pill with an entire glass of water.

"You alright, honey?" her mother appeared at the bathroom doorway.

"Yea, I just got sick to my stomach. They told me it might happen."

"Well, don't you fret, it happens even with mothers who…" she suddenly stopped, fearful of what she was about to say. Mel just looked at her for a minute.

"To mothers who are having human babies, Mom? Is that what you meant to say?"

Her mother just looked away, at a loss for how to talk with her daughter over what had happened and the inhumanity of what was to be her first grandchild. "I'll get back to fixin' lunch, honey. You go to your room and rest a bit, ok?"

"Yea, that sounds like a good idea." She left her Mom cutting the dumpling dough into strips and went to rest on her bed. Crawling onto the quilted coverlet, she thought about going to church again. She had not been in several months, not since her return. She had initially been too frightened to even leave the house. But as time went on, she was becoming accustomed to being back at home and beginning to feel safe again. It would be good to see everyone and hear one of Gramps rousing sermons again.

Two years of college had opened Melanie's quick mind to many new and unfamiliar ideas that had made her question some of the knowledge that she had been brought up with. She respected her parents and her grandfather of course, but as many sons and daughters eventually do, she had begun to start thinking for herself about the world.

Her parents and her grandfather had rejoiced at her return. However, when they found out she was pregnant their attitudes had changed. Her mom was the most accepting, but still held the idea at arms length, as did Melanie herself. She did not want the half-alien child. The idea of breast-feeding that potentially horrid mouth made her feel queasy. Yet, she knew this was an intelligent life growing inside her and was also half composed of her genes. As hideous as it might appear after its birth, she could not deny she was its mother.

Her father had said nothing, as usual. He hugged her and welcomed her home with relief, and then went back to his ranching. Her grandfather hugged her also, and became withdrawn and thoughtful after learning of the unborn child. Something was bothering him, for sure, she knew the signs. Now that she thought about it, her little brother, Jase, was the most accepting person in her family. He was too young to completely understand, but had been told that Mel had a child growing 'inside her tummy'. He was rather baffled by this information and wondered for a time if she had eaten some teaspoon-sized kind of 'baby seed' which had settled to grow inside her.

All in all, Melanie was grateful for her family and sympathized with their reluctance to embrace her pregnancy. Some returning women had immediately resorted to abortion, and then went into hiding to escape the wrath of the Hunters. She already knew that was not something she would do. Not only would she not sacrifice the unborn life, she would not place herself or her family in the path of alien anger. Their strength coupled with the advanced technology she had witnessed convinced her that in any conflict, the humans would be the losers. As the Yautja-provided medication soothed her digestive tract, she got sleepy and soon nodded off.

In an old ranch house, half a section away from Melanie, her brother Jase and her folks, an aged but still sturdy man sat in an old overstuffed arm chair, the fabric thin and frayed from years of supporting him. His sparsely white-haired head was bowed and his eyes were closed behind the gold metal rims of his tri-focals. In his lap lay an open Bible, with worn pages and slips of paper sticking out from between the pages here and there.

_Oh Lord_, he silently prayed, _help me to stand strong against thine enemy – that evil one, that Satan. Give me the wisdom to recognize and weed out the tares from among thy flock! I thank you for returning my granddaughter to me safely, Lord, and I praise your name! Help her to be strong in her faith and comfort her as she bears this abomination that has come upon her. But not my will, O Lord, but your will be done. I thank you for forgiving me my sins and trust that upon that great last day I shall be counted among your sheep. In the name of Jesus, Amen._

Reverend Dunn was worried, deeply worried, for the salvation of his granddaughter. She had been captured by aliens, who from their appearance must be in league with the Devil, and now she was carrying a child by one of them. God only knew what carrying it would do to her. What had she ever done to deserve such a fate? He had raised her father to be a good, God-fearing man and he knew of a certainty that his son had raised his granddaughter that way too. That a demon had defiled her made him clench his fists and teeth. If he'd only been there with his shotgun, he'd have sent that spawn of Satan back to the depths of Hell where it belonged! His hands shook with impotent anger that neither he, nor his son, nor any man had been there to protect his granddaughter.

His son and his family had been out camping, for God's sake – camping with a church group for a week long retreat! What more wholesome activity could they have been engaged in? They'd been singing, praying and hearing the word of the Lord. Then, his precious granddaughter had gone for a jog around the lake and had been accosted by one of those monsters. _The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?_

He picked up his pad of paper and a pen from the lamp table beside him and resumed working on his sermon. With the Lord's help, there must be a way to fight these enemies of salvation and there must be a way to protect against this evil growing within his beloved Melanie. He would continue to search the scriptures and pray. As a man of great faith, he was assured that an answer would come.

* * *

The Great Hall of the High Council was filled to overflowing with representatives of the nine Clans. Differing Clan marks could be seen upon each of the foreheads that were nodding to each other as many greeted those they had not seen in a long time. A low rolling cacophony of growls, rumbles and clicks formed a sea of sound in the majestic room. All were there to witness the binding rite of the Matriarch to her Consort. Such an event had not taken place in hundreds of long cycles, and many were here enjoying this time of celebration, feasting and, of course, c'ntlip.

Sally stood in an adjacent chamber to the main hall, waiting for her signal to enter and begin the ceremony. The anti-anxiety medication that Myn'dill had provided was finally beginning to work, and the Matriarch felt her butterflies beginning to settle. There was a full length mirror on one wall and she checked her appearance one more time, admiring the white fabric that had been crafted into an exquisite long loin cloth and draping top that bared a single shoulder. The sides of the top were long and drifted down her flanks to stop mid-thigh. The entire garment flowed gracefully with her as she walked in the small, white, oddly open footwear that had been fashioned for her feet.

She pinked a bit as her eyes were drawn to the scars left by her mates' tusks upon the bared shoulder, then lifted her head proudly. _The Matriarchs took who they wanted and I am not ashamed of the Hunters I have claimed as mates. A Yautja Matriarch would wear her scars proudly – so shall I. _ She nervously fingered the strips that had been woven into her now chin length hair.

An aseigan had helped her get ready this morning. She had been assigned servants and was not used to relying on them for anything, much to their dismay. But this morning, she had allowed one to help her dress properly and prepare her hair. She had three lock rings to wear, two had belonged to Ulfr and one had been recently gifted from Sig'dan. Since her hair was not long enough, the aseigan had cleverly woven in some strands of leather that were close to her hair color and affixed the rings onto them. She now sported a chin length sort of bob with two leather strands hanging longer on her right side. One with rings for honor and bravery, the other bore a ring signifying strength of will. They gave a pleasant clink when she moved her head just the right way.

Sig'dan had brought her Ulfr's rings which the second-in-command, Ab'bi, had delivered to him, acting on the Elder's orders just before his death. He had explained to her what an honor it was for Ulfr to have gifted them from his own locks. He then told her what they meant as well as some of the things that Ulfr had done to deserve them, and how he must have thought her worthy of them also. She had listened quietly, with tears streaming down her face, and now wore the coppery bands together on a single strand. The rings did not bring her honor or joy, only sadness. She hoped that in time her emotions would change and she would feel only proud wearing them.

The other ring that symbolized strength of will had been gifted by Sig'dan to commemorate her meetings with the High Council, and for previously standing up to Ulfr and then dressing both of them down in front of the High Elders. Similar to the ones from Ulfr, this one was a wide tube of orangey-gold metal that was bright on the ends and darker in the main part of the ornament with symbols engraved through the oxidation into the brightness below, indicating the ring's meaning. Sally wore Sig'dan's gift gladly, and remembered fondly how outraged she'd been at the two of them for threatening each other over her in front of the entire Council.

Her examination of her appearance was interrupted by one crusty word from Yin, "Now," he rasped, nodding to her. She took a deep breath, settled for a moment and then stepped out into the Great Hall as the Leader of the Clans' High Council rapped his dais with a large spiral horn and the ocean of voices fell silent. She faltered as what seemed a thousand rings clinked together while hundreds of locked heads turned to look at her. For a moment, her vision was filled with mandible bedecked face after imposing face. She took another deep breath and looked up to where the High Council Elders sat. Up the stairway at the top of the chamber stood the leading Elders of the Nine Clans, and down below, at the other end of the vast room, stood her Sig'dan next to the imposing figure of her Consort - Elite Elder Arbitrator Aldúlfr. Her eyes stopped, taking him in. He towered over Sig'dan – at least a head and a half more. He was even taller than Ulfr had been!

The Arbitrator was turned out in the imposing ceremonial armor of his profession which made him look positively frightening to Sally. The matte blackness of the armor blended with the Elder's own dark coloring and made his white locks almost shine in contrast. The armor consisted of huge flexible plating over Aldúlfr's already immense shoulders, protective wrist cuffs, codpiece and greaves. All of it was cut in toothed lines, rather than smooth strips, and each plate was intricately embellished with the forms of Hunters slaying other Hunters. The Matriarch would be confused by this when she became near enough to see, until she recalled that the Arbitrator's job was to hunt the condemned of his own kind. His locks carried more rings than she had ever witnessed, and along with the metal bands, small skulls were interspersed here and there. _If his locks were black, he could be the dark Hunter of my former nightmares,_ she told herself. _He could be the embodiment of Cetanu! Well…I guess he IS for Yautja criminals._

Sally felt very, very tiny as she prepared to walk to where Sig'dan and the Arbitrator were waiting. Whileere Ulfr had been breathtaking, his Sire was completely imposing and intimidating. Had it not been for the encouragement of Sig'dan's warm brown eyes, she would have turned and fled as surely as a mouse sensing an owl about to swoop down upon it. She fixed her eyes on Sig'dan's, willing her fears to ease, and began what felt like a death march down the length of the long Great Hall.

Every Hunters' eyes were upon her, noting her traditional dress and hair rings. They saw how erect and regally she walked and many tried to take in her scent. Aware of the huffing as she passed by, Sally concentrated on thinking lofty thoughts in order to not give away her fear when the full effect of Myn'dill's medication hit her. Physically, she was still steady, still walking down the aisle to her awaiting Consort groom and his best Hunter. However, as her mind became fully relaxed, and she felt as though she had not a care in the world. Nothing fearful was happening. She was simply walking down a large pathway lined by monstrous Hunters who had crowned her Queen, and were about to witness her marry her King, she decided. Or was it her larger-than-life boy toy?

She dared to look at the Hunters as she walked by, noting their stature and appearance until, unexpectedly, everything seemed funny. Her eyes roved the crowd, going from Hunter to Hunter, as her sense of humor went up and out of control.

_He needs to see an orthodontist. Didn't know any of them had buck fangs. Wonder if they would insist on engraving honorable words on the bands around his pointed teeth? How about 'eat me' on one fang?_

_That one's a little cross eyed, and what's this? A collection of rodent skulls? Looks like he broke into an experimental lab and murdered all the white rats to decorate his locks. Will he get cancer now?_

_Jesus! Look at the size of the codpiece on that guy! What's he got? A giant kielbasa in there? Or maybe he shoved a few baking potatoes down his cloth? _

Sally caught herself nearly snickering and refocused on completing her walk down the aisle, physically biting her lips to keep under control. She quickly left her imaginary stand-up routine as she approached the waiting Consort. Unable to tear her eyes away and give the now neglected Sig'dan even a glance, all she could think was, _that…is…one…huge…no…fucking HUGE…Yautja!_

The Arbitrator watched the ooman female approach his end of the Great Hall, where he waited with his offspring. The general public had become at least a little accustomed to the idea of an ooman Matriarch with the publicity of the High Council's judgment of her. For the Arbitrator, this was his first physical encounter with the idea, and he watched the tiny figure in her ritual attire walk the hall with dignity as all heads turned to gawk at her. He saw her look over the Hunters as she passed by, apparently aloof to their huffs, and he was suddenly struck with the ridiculousness of the scene. It took great discipline to not chortle or click his tusks in amusement. _Great Paya, _he thought, _all the Honored ancestors are probably banging their drinking bowls upon Cetanu's table in protest right now. The High Elders are so desperate for feminine guidance that they have promoted a pauk-de prey female to our highest political position. Gah! _Suddenly he turned introspective, _who do I laugh at? I have agreed to her also, and consented to be her Consort. _

He, as had many Hunters, never found ooman females very attractive. True, he had mated some, but it was only an act of sexual relief and procreation. He did not care that they were intelligent, and he revisited them only when it was time to mate or inspect a newborn. The ooman females were tiny, with slippery smooth skin; their faces were far too simple and had nearly non-existent jaws. There was no challenge in mating them, they merely submitted due to their drugged state and moaned until he was finished. He knew that they made cries and jerked their body at times during his act – he had supposed it was a pleasure response – or perhaps pain from his heavy thrusts into them. As long as they were not damaged, it did not matter. As he was remembering past ooman ruts, he evaluated the Matriarch's body and decided that the white ceremonial clothing did not look completely stupid on her.

Everyone had turned to look at Sally, but she seemed relaxed and not afraid of their attention. He was reluctantly impressed at thewith her composure of a prey female surrounded by predators. As she was nearly at his feet, he began to discretely huff, trying to pick up her scent. What came to him was the scent of calmness, certainly no fear, and something else…was the female somehow entertained by this ritual? Perhaps she enjoyed having all eyes upon her and gloried in her honor at having such a famous and respected Hunter as her Consort. He looked down at the small female ooman who was now right in front of him and looking up into his gilded eyes. Was she trying to stare him down? He scented no threat or challenge from her – only curiosity and surprise. She plummeted her eyes from his as the ceremony began, and the huge Arbitrator dropped down on a single knee in a public act of his commitment of submission to her, a reenactment of the statues of Paya and Cetanu in the ancient temple.

Sally had been around the Ancients and their less-than-attractiveness, but today was her first close encounter with an Elder of this physical stature and age. He was an older Elder, yet not an Ancient. She carefully examined his foreign face through drugged eyes. _Aside from his golden eyes, there is only one word for him…hoary. Sorry, Ulfr, I know this is your Dad, but his face is damned ugly! Are those short locks sprouting from his eye ridges and down the sides of his face? He looks like a freakin' white Yautja porcupine. I now pronounce you Matriarch and Quill-ball! My God, would Ulfr have eventually looked like this? Will Sig'dan? _The huge Yautja stood and, as gracefully as possible, she took her place by the Consort's side as the High Council Leader began speaking, and Sig'dan translated for her.

Somehow, she managed to say all her lines at the appropriate time, and listened to the Consort's basso profundo voice say his. She also managed not to break into laughter, or even smile, but kept up her serious Matriarchal appearance. She took a small drink of sacred wine from the ancient drinking bowl, and then handed it up to the Arbitrator who, spreading his mandibles wide, also took a swallow. The wine was cloyingly sweet. Sig'dan had told her it was fermented from local fruit and only used for religious ceremonies. When the ceremony finally concluded, Sig'dan left them and the 'happy couple' walked back down the length of the hallway. Each was now bound to the other. The Consort was to defend her, when and if required, and be obedient to the Matriarch's wishes and she was to engage and surrender sexually to the Consort whenever she chose. Their first mating was significant and was the true completion of the binding ceremony.

Sig'dan watched the two of them leave the hall and proceed to the Matriarch's quarters. He quickly headed to his own before anyone scented his displeasure. There he would try and drown his imagination in c'ntlip and not think about what was going on between Sal'lee and his Sire.

Sally felt like some miniature dog trying to keep up with its master as she and the Arbitrator walked to her quarters. Taking at least two steps for every one of his was not easy in the foreign footwear. Finally, she reached up and touched his elbow. The tiny pressure brought him to a complete halt and he stood looking down at her with mandibles waving a bit in question.

"Honorable Consort, I request that you slow down, I cannot walk as fast as you."

The Elder Arbitrator concentrated, trying to make sense of her speech. He had understood his title of Consort, and the words 'I', 'down', and 'walk'. He cocked his head and rumbled, "Sei, you…I walk down" and pointed the way. She shook her head to signal the negative, which he understood, and she tried again.

"Watch, please." She made her fingers into walking legs and pointed to him, then showed her fingers making huge strides. She pointed to herself and had the other fingers running to catch up. "Understand?"

"Sei," the low voice vibrated back at her. Then he resumed walking at a much slower pace with Sally keeping pace easily beside him. "Thank you," she said, looking up at him. He looked back down at her in curiosity, saying nothing and wondering at her gratitude simply because he was following her request.

When they reached her quarters, a servant greeted them and opened the main door. Now on unfamiliar territory, the Arbitrator let Sally lead the way to her bedroom. She was still a little giggly from the medication and felt that a giant Yeti had followed her home. Her room had been expertly cleaned while she was away and everything gleamed. On the room's polished table set a beaker of Naxa juice and a small vial, left there by a servant under the direction of her personal Healer Myn'dill.

Sally froze as she saw the beaker and realized what was in the vial. Her good humor was swiftly replaced with dread and she struggled to stifle her fear. Her discomfort wafted up to be inhaled by a small huff from the Arbitrator, who stood evaluating the situation.

The female had definitely been drugged prior to the ceremony, of that he was sure. Not a drug to quell fear, but something to steady her nerves. It apparently had affected her in a way not quite anticipated and brought out the good humor that Ulfr had told him she possessed. She had been clever in communicating with him in the hallway that he had been out-walking her, but now she was definitely afraid – and trying to cover it up. He scented no desire from her. What had happened to the female who had walked so regally down the hallway to him, boldly looking at the crowd?

He then followed her line of sight to the vial of sedistim on the table. So that was it. His gruff demeanor slightly mellowed with a tinge of something that he quickly stuffed back into the darkest recess of his mind. He kept trying to chain it there, but it did not always hold. He had no intention of hurting the Matriarch, and was unable to think of how to conveymmunicate this to her. She was the Matriarch, why was she not commanding him? His frustration at being unable to communicate brought him great displeasure and he thought, _the scientists need to figure out how to give these oomans proper vocal structures so they can learn to speak properly!_

A few irritated tusk clicks brought her attention to him. He bowed very slightly to her and then stalked away, finding his way to the soaking room. Obviously, she required the sedistim, and he needed something to do while waiting for it to work and she needed to feel safe while he was doing it. He entered, closing the door behind him, and she heard him set the lock.

_What? It's our honeymoon night, and he goes for a soak - alone?_ Sally felt both relieved and rejected all at the same time. _Was I supposed to make the first move? The Matriarch is the dominant one – I must remember! _Unable to figure out his behavior, and nearly unable to speak with him, a frustrated Matriarch undressed, drank the Naxa spiked with sedistim and made her way to bed. She had taken up the Yautja custom of sleeping nude. It was comfortable and made slipping into middle-of-the-night mating very easy to initiate.

Of course, she did not find sleep waiting to see what her giant Consort would do next. She had darkened the room somewhat for her comfort, but a Hunter could see in the dark. She waited for him and for the drug to take effect and relax her. She did not have to wait long, the dosage prepared by her Healer was a hefty one, much more than she had ever been given by Ulfr. Clearly, Myn'dill had her best interests at heart.

She closed her eyes enjoying the complete calm that claimed her, and then felt the room spin as blood rushed to her sensitive female areas and they began to demand attention. Ugly face or no, she was becoming aroused and would certainly be willing to bed her Consort when he rejoined her. _If I only had a large shopping bag to place over his head._ Her thoughts then turned to Ulfr and the amazing way he'd made her feel, the great care he taken to not injure her with his strength and size. Was his Sire going to be anything like that?

After about a half-hour of soaking by her figuring, she heard the footsteps as he came to her and felt the bed go definitively down as he sat on the edge. Pulling back the top fur, he clambered in. Sally was completely ready to jump on top of him, but even in her drugged state, she hesitated. How could she tell him? She reached for the light control and illuminated the room, when she suddenly felt his enormous bulk shift. She looked over at the other side of the bed and saw the Elder had turned his back to her and was apparently going to sleep. Should she try and get his attention? He did not seem interested at all in mating with her.

Why did the Elder Arbitrator not want her? Was she undesirable in some way? Had she offended him? Her understanding had been that after the ceremony, the Matriarch and her Consort 'sealed the deal' by mating. Was her agreement with him not yet binding because mating had not occurred? Confusion rolled about in her mind as she lay beside him and was quickly being replaced with anger. _OK, you've got to BE the Matriarch! Let him know what you want, in fact, you need to demand it of him! Otherwise, Matriarch or not, he's not gonna respect you._

Sally pushed back her fur and carefully got to her knees on the bed. She boldly reached for the Arbitrator's shoulder and shook him. He turned his head a bit so that he could see her out of the corner of one eye and waited. "Honorable Consort," came out of her mouth a little more sarcastically than she had intended. "Pauk?" Sally pronounced one of the few words that she could as carefully as possible. She said the rather common word that was used both as an expletive and also to refer to the rut, and then just stood on her knees staring at him with raised eyebrows. Indeed, it was a challenge as she kept up unwavering eye contact.

He evaluated her while watching from the corner of one eye. She was being mildly assertive, something he had never experienced with an ooman, and he actually scented anger coming from her! But, she had confusingly requested, rather than commanded the rut, and was now actually challenging him with her eyes. This was confusing, but worth consideration and he was obligated to submit to her orders. If only she would give a proper one!

The bed wavered as Mount Consort rolled over toward her, causing now unbalanced Sally to be felled like a tree. Only this tree had its hands out instinctively trying to catch herself before she became an undignified splat on his crotch and thighs. Unfortunately, the Arbitrator was lying with his legs spread somewhat apart with his, as yet unviewed by Sally, member relaxing over his lower stomach. Also unfortunately, one of Sally's stiffly held hands pile drivered down at just the right angle, directly on target which was the Elder's sensitive area right in back of where his hunterhood erupted from his flesh - exactly where the seeds of tomorrow's children were being created.

The roar was perhaps a 6.0 on the Richter scale, should the Yautja have had one. Sally screamed for only the second time in her entire life as she was sent sliding across the bed on her knees and down the side onto the floor by a brawny arm on top of her shoulder, shoving her away. She lay on the floor in a heap, assessing just how much she hurt and if anything was broken.

The Arbitrator's great arm had connected solidly with the top of her left shoulder; there would at least be a deep bruise. She had also hit the hard stone floor feet first, but then crumpled as her right ankle complained of the odd angle. So that was a sprain at least, she figured. Oh, and her knees had 'fur burn' from being slid across the bed. Not too badly injured for taking on an Elite Elder Arbitrator! She carefully stood and leaned against the bed, looking across at her Consort.

The Elite Elder had his working tool in one hand and was checking his injury site with the other, a pained expression still on his face. He turned his head and looked at her and gave a slight nod, "H'chak." She understood the word that meant 'mercy'. He watched her nod of understanding and then he broke out into low chuffing. Sally smiled weakly, realizing that he found what had happened at least entertaining.

The lowly prey had managed a surprise attack and actually made a hit on an Elite Elder Arbitrator, and she had lived to tell the tale. _She is unique, _he thought. _She is the only creature that has ever caused me that much pain and lived. _He chuffed again to himself this time.

He now took the opportunity to huff and scent her, she was indeed aroused. He looked at the empty vial on the table. "Come," he motioned to her to get up on the bed. She was able to make her hop, even on the sore ankle, and got in beside him again as drug-enhanced excitement quickly took over her senses.

The huge hands began to stroke her body. They were the largest, strongest and warmest hands that Sally had ever felt, running down the sides of her face onto her breasts, over her stomach, down her thighs in a smoldering trail that was traversed again and again. "Auldulfr, she begged him, "more, I need more from you." He didn't understand her words, but her scent told him all he needed to know. He thought for a mere moment about how best to deal with things, and then let his instincts take over.

His hands grabbed her thighs and parted her at the knees. Huffing richness, he moved closer as his palms, with talons carefully pointed away from her, pinned her hips to the bed as firmly as if she'd been chained there. She expected the gently strong tonguing of Ulfr or Sig'dan, or even a tentative touch as his tip tasted her. Instead, the large, pebbled tongue plied at her, searching for entrance, and then relentlessly plunged inside in a single thrust. Sally couldn't control the moans and cries that came from her as the powerful tongue thrust in and out, its nuggety surface unlike anything she had experienced before.. He plundered pleasure from her relentlessly and sent her over the edge again and again until she lost count.

She must have passed out, she reasoned, as she awakened some time later to a completely darkened room. Reaching for her mate, she found only an empty bed. Was he using the bathroom? She again turned the light on, but only at its lowest setting, and scanned the room. There in the middle of the floor, slept her Consort, on a heap of pillows and furs gathered from about her dwelling. _Perhaps he prefers to sleep alone? Or maybe he likes a firmer bed?_ She turned off the light and went back to slumber.


	4. A Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love

**A/N: **Just 'cuz someone asked – yes, I am working ahead of what I publish. But not as far ahead as I did with Paya's House – which is either confident or dumb…we shall see.

**Chapter 3: A Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love**

"_**It's very hard to live up to an image…-**_**-Elvis Presley**

The Yaut sun's morning rays streamed in the window of Sig'dan's quarters, falling upon his sleeping face. He awakened to their warm brightness and stretched lazily in his furs. He had passed the night on his side and now noticed that his upper and lower right mandibles were tingling as the blood flow had been impaired. He worked them open and shut several times, trying to help them come back to life.

It had been an anxious evening, but the large amount of c'ntlip he'd consumed finally helped him pass into sleep. As he continued awakening, he realized there was a mild annoying drumbeat in his head. Some water and food would probably clear it. As he thought about standing, a soft request for attention by the door com brought his hand to the voice control near his bed, "Sei?" he asked while thinking, _who the pauk-de c'jit calls on me so early?_

"Train with me, or are you a pup still enjoying his bed?" The burley growls of his Sire caused Sig'dan to spring up and don a loincloth while en route to the door. The room tilted for a moment as he walked, nearly causing him to stumble. Grabbing a mug full of water from yesterday, he sloshed it down through gaping mandibles and then opened the door.

"I will train, my Elder," Sig'dan bowed his head respectfully, as drops of water ran down his tusks onto his neck, and carefully steered his thoughts away from surprise that his Sire was not still with Sally. He would consider that later, when out of reach of his Elder's sensitive scent organ which had already surmised Sig'dan's hung over state.

Aldúlfr recalled episodes of the morning after inebriation from his own youth and said nothing to his offspring. One learned to drink in moderation, or chance getting the c'jit beat out of them, or worse, in the arena. They walked together in silence down the quiet, sunrise lit streets to a nearby kehrite and went to one of the sparring circles laid out on the floor. The walk gave the young Hunter time to pull his head together.

He was optimistic that he would give the Elder a decent challenge as the hasty hydration he'd quaffed on the way out of his room was beginning to make him feel better. After all, his elder brother, Ulfr, had instructed him and Sig'dan knew of few as formidible. Once they were both inside the circle Sig'dan's Sire wordlessly gave, what was for him, a moderate shove to his offspring's shoulder, causing the young Hunter to waver as he returned the invitation. The training match was on!

With nimble feline grace they both sprang into sparring posture with knees bent and legs wide apart in a crouch. With their mandibles spread, they began to orbit an imaginary point where each one's will reached forth to try and push the other's back through intimidation. The Hunters were now each looking for an opening in the other's defense. A low growl came from Sig'dan while the Elder kept moving within the circle of challenge remaining ominously silent. He was evaluating his youngling's posture and movement, watching for the beginning of any attack or any opening for an assault of his own.

There! As a bolt of lightning, Aldúlfr swiftly unbalanced the younger Yautja, placing him in a headlock and then easily forcing him to the ground. In the time it took to take a breath, Sig'dan had been humiliatingly overpowered by the size and skill of his Sire. With the kehrite floor in his face, he realized he had much to learn.

After the unbreakable hold left him, Sig'dan stuffed down his embarrassment, jumped to his feet and humbled himself before the Arbitrator. "My Sire, I am honored to be your student. I am open to my improvement as you have shown me my weakness."

Aldúlfr was pleased at his bloodline's modesty and willingness to learn. Sig'dan's young skill set was not horrible, there were not many fully grown Yautja that could withstand the Arbitrator who was confident that the recently Blooded Hunter could be improved. Sig'dan had received the training that all Hunters did – he just needed finishing. Aldúlfr immediately began to show the his offspring a glimpse of how an Arbitrator polished his craft, by first demonstrating that Sig'dan could better his sparring pose as he was not genuinely working from his center. Together they worked on the strengthening and agility movements that would help the young Hunter find the true core of his strength and balance, and act from it.

Sig'dan was dismayed to be relearning something that had initially been taught to him while still in puphood, but he quickly saw the value in refinement as by the end of the session he already demonstrated greater power and agility. He vowed to practice daily until he became a more worthy opponent.

As Sig'dan and his Sire trained, Sally had awakened in her rooms to find her Consort had vanished. Removing her fur covering disclosed a sore shoulder and she fingered the largest set of tusk punctures she had ever encountered. That was going to leave an impressive mark! She considered that one look at this scar would surely discourage anyone else from trying to entice her to mate with him!

Sliding from the bed, she went to bathe, stopping in puzzlement a few steps into the room. She did not feel like she had spent the night with a Hunter. Even Sig'dan, for all his youth, left her feeling noticeably worn the following morning and Ulfr – after they had been together she recalled hardly being able to stand afterwards. But this morning after her first mating with her Consort – nothing! No tenderness, no chafing, she felt nothing. What had happened during the night? The large dose of sedistim had certainly made her ravenous, and she remembered him satisfying her with his tongue. But what had happened after that? If her body was to be the judge - then she would state that other than some damn big tusks and a delightful tongue, nothing had penetrated her.

The frustrating part was that she couldn't ask him. Oh, she could speak to him, but he'd not understand her and there had been no one else around to witness the final act of bonding. She wasn't about to try and pantomime her question to him. _I guess next time I'll ask Myn'dill for not quite so large a dose – maybe. I wonder if Sig'dan could shed any light on this. But how improper would it be for me to speak of this to him? I must consider carefully._

She went on to the bath to ready herself for the day, shooing the servants away when they tried to help. She was not an infant to be bathed and dressed! _And for God's sake give me some privacy, _her mind pleaded. She was so distracted from pondering her lack of soreness during her preparations that she headed straight for Sig'dan's quarters, not bothering to care that it was so early Yin and Yang were not yet on duty. The Matriarch was out on her own, unguarded.

No one else appeared to be about yet, except for the aseigan street-cleaning crew who stared at her until she turned a corner out of sight. Spying the building containing the young Hunter's quarters, she entered and climbed the large stairs to his rooms. At his door, a hit to the com button brought only silence. She hit it again, there was no response. Just as she was about to lay into it a third time, Sig'dan and his Sire rounded the corner and came into view.

"She is alone!" the words in Yautja came from a horrified Sig'dan's mouth. His Sire only gave a low, barely audible growl of displeasure.

"Honorable Consort, I did not know where you had gone this morning," she politely began, addressing the Sire. Sig'dan translated and, a few clicks and growls later brought her the reply.

"I trained with my offspring."

Sig'dan gratefully realized that his Sire was not going to advertise his ineptitude, and added, "Did you require something, Matriarch?" Sig'dan was careful to use her title when the Consort was present, not wanting to garner a reprimand for disrespecting her.

"I wanted to speak with you about something, but it can wait," she smiled at him. "I'm not sure what is next on the agenda for me today, uh…with my Consort."

The Consort, still displeased that Sally had no guard, saw the camaraderie between her and his young offspring. He opened his mandibles in threat to Sig'dan, who put his eyes down immediately. Aldúlfr looked at his Matriarch and rumbled one English word as he held out his hand, "Come." He would make his demand for her now and show this youngling that his own needs for the Matriarch were significant.

Sally looked a little desperately at Sig'dan, but cooperatively placed her small hand in the outstretched one where it was immediately engulfed. She walked along beside him as he took the smaller slower steps that she required as they went back to her rooms. When they reached her quarters, Sally keyed in the code and entered with the Arbitrator immediately behind her. He seemed possibly a little anxious to her, but she dismissed that as she could not imagine that he would be apprehensive about anything to do with her. She watched him tap his com and heard his rumbling vowels accompanied by clicks, but could not understand him.

"This is the Matriarch's Consort. I request guards be assigned to her at all times. She may then go out day or night in safety." Aldúlfr paused and then cut the link.

He reached for her hand, as he pointed to the bathing suite and growled out again that single question, "Come?"

_Okay. I shower every morning, mister. What about you? I guess another bath won't hurt, and it will give us some time to – bond. Or do you want sex again?_

"Sei," she replied and followed him to the bathing pool with her small paw buried in his. The Arbitrator scented a bit of defiance coming from the Matriarch and felt her hand stiffen ever so slightly in his. He looked down at her, then began to unclothe and simply gave a teasing flare of his very large mandibles. Sally felt it might be some kind of warning so she dutifully began to disrobe while watching the Herculean Yautja enter the steaming water.

In spite of his grizzled face, Sally found that she could value the rest of him. She had always appreciated a great body, and his shoulders were broader than any she'd seen before. His exquisitely muscled form gave no indication of age other than the white locks and the tremendous amount of scarring in evidence nearly everywhere. The most prominent scar reached from his lower abdomen, nearly at his groin in a diagonal stripe up his stomach to end just under his left lower rib. It was a tremendous groove and had healed nearly white with granular tissue. The Matriarch did not wish to encounter whatever monster he had been fighting that inflicted that kind of injury. She involuntarily shuddered just contemplating it.

The Arbitrator watched her as he unclothed and was aware that she was evaluating him. He saw her eyes drawn to his most impressive scar and stopped for a moment to let her take the full measure of it, then rotated to let her see the matching one on his lower back before turning again to enter the water. Watching intently, he saw her eyes rove lower as her face began to take on a radiant heat glow.

Sally was awestruck as she stood with her eyes glued to the sight of his member, fully thick and fat, just lounging casually in between the massive legs. _Now I'm absolutely sure that he didn't enter me last night! _She could well imagine its heft when aroused and cringed, wondering how in the world she would ever be able to take that inside of herself. _Oh, a whole quart of sedistim might do the trick. Can I drink enough of it to just pass out? No wonder Myn'dill fixed such a whopping dose! Might as well order myself a wheelchair._

Now in the pool, he grunted questioningly at her, scenting her tension and wariness. Sally left her neat pile of clothing and made her way into the soothing waters to take a seat near, but not quite next to, the Elder. He watched her every movement through nearly closed eyes as he sat submerged up to his neck with his great white locks resembling bleached kelp floating around him. Slowly, like some great crocodile, he cracked open one golden eye as though searching for a tasty morsel.

_I scent no desire for rut, but her fear is eased. What does she want? She still gives no order. I will test...is she is a leader or a submitter to my will? _

He eased one mighty arm out very slowly and placed a powerful hand at the back of her neck. She gasped upon feeling the great strong warmth surround the base of her skull with amazing gentleness. His fingers curled around her neck and the tips of his talons touched the front of her throat as the barest whisper of a claw caress moved against her jugular. _He could kill me so easily, _Sally couldn't help her thoughts. _He's so strong…Without the sedistim, I have never felt so much like prey around any Yautja as I do around him. He must know how much he frightens me. How much less does he value me now?_

The Arbitrator mock-threatened the tense female with the tips of his claws. In one move he could puncture her great neck artery and bleed her out. Her forthcoming scent of distress did not surprise him; he had never scented anything from an undrugged ooman female before except fear. He was, however, disappointed. Neither of his sons had ever spoken about anything but her bravery to him. Was it possible that her dread was due to her unfamiliarity with a Hunter of his stature and profession? He decided to test further. Pulling her closer, he placed a huge arm around her shoulders, being careful not to rest the full weight of it upon her. "Cooomme," he softly snarled, and motioned her to his lap.

Sally debated internally for a moment, but the word came again. This time it reached her ears as a softly barked order, "Come…Sal'lee!" The Matriarch was amazed that he had learned to pronounce her name! She felt touched by his gesture and looked at him, saying her version of his own name back. "Sei, Aldulfr."

Climbing onto the great lap with a little assistance from his huge hands about her waist, she tried to settle comfortably, closing her eyes for a moment and focusing on relaxing. She felt the giant's hand press on the back of her head and then slowly stroke her hair down her neck and slide warmly onto her back. He repeated this several times until he felt the beginning of relaxation as her body became more pliable to his strokes. _Perhaps she is only a pet? I will treat her as one and see her response._

He continued to stroke her head, speaking one more new word that came from behind his mandible lips and pointed teeth, a word he had been practicing, "Gud, Sal'lee, guuuud." She looked into his golden eyes with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Gud? Good? Aldulfr? Do you mean…goooood?"

He looked thoughtful, uncertain even, and not at all liking it. He carefully took her from his lap, depositing her on the underwater bench, and without another word crossed the room to the drying station as he left a great river trailing behind him. Worried that she had done something to offend, Sally got to her feet and spoke to him after climbing the steps out of the pool. "Elder Aldulfr," she bowed her head in submission and waited.

He finished his drying, and reclothed himself before walking back over to Sally. Using the tip of a claw, he ran it down the side of her face just hard enough to leave a rapidly reddening scratch. She shivered and looked him in the eye. His gilded orbs beamed frustration at her. His manidibles opened and then were clasped back to the sides of his face in what seemed to her to be a scowl. Reflexively holding his hand up, he then stared at it for a moment, looking at it and then back at her. Abruptly he turned and left. Sally could hear the low snarl that hung in the air after his departure.

Aldúlfr was beyond annoyed. Yes, she was supposed to submit to his sexual demands, however; she had reacted submissively, following him to her rooms and into the bath. Then she had settled upon his lap and even seemed to enjoy a pet, but then she had aggravatingly challenged him by daring to correct his pronunciation of her tiring language and also had the seed creators to look him directly in the eye. He was tempted to backhand her for disrespecting him. If she'd only been one of his long-gone Bearers that is indeed what would have happened. He nearly sighed, realizing that to remain honorable he dared not lay any hand of punishment upon her. He decided to leave, knowing the kehrite would unflinchingly bear his pronounced exasperation.

She tried to read his eyes and face, but as he left her quarters she realized once again that she needed help in understanding him. He had seemed interested in her while in the pool and had been almost kind, in fact. Then suddenly, his interest was gone – replaced with displeasure. What was happening? Was there some way she was not measuring up to his expectations?

She knew that Sig'dan was engaged in work right now. What about Myn'dill? He could at least speak a limited amount of English, and understood more than he could speak. She sent a message to him requesting his presence. Her personal Healer arrived within a short time. "Honorable Matriarch," he stated respectfully, "what is needed?"

Sally smiled at him in welcome; her health had been excellent since her arrival. Soon after coming to Yaut, Myn'dill had given her some sort of supplements that he said were required. After she had been taking them for several weeks, she began to notice that she felt stronger and those little aches and pains that had begun to plague her back on Earth were gone. She didn't know what miracle drug the Healer was giving her, but she was grateful for it and had expressed that to him. He had only nodded politely to her in response.

"I am not ill, Honorable Healer, and please call me Sally when we alone."

"Sei, Sal'lee," he replied and waited for more.

She tried to simplify her language and spoke slowly for the English-impaired Healer. "I know that Yautja do not speak of other Yautja to each other, but I need your help. My Consort…he…does not mate with me. I worry that I have offended him." Her concerned gaze concentrated on Myn'dill waiting for him to sort out some meaning.

A look of surprise crossed his face as his mandibles gave a moderate spread and his great brow lifted. "Sal'lee and Consort not mate?" he tried to clarify.

"Sei, Healer," she nodded her head in agreement with his interpretation, and then lifted her empty answerless hands. "I do not understand why – no mate," she explained.

The Healer quickly replied, "Myn'dill not under-stand why. Very…danger, Sal'lee…to try to find…why. Why not wait…see." He cocked his head at her hoping she understood. He was not about to go prying into such a private matter between the Matriarch and her Consort. If at all possible, they needed to try and work this out themselves.

"I understand, Thank you, Myn'dill," she nodded to him, "I don't need anything else." Understanding his dismissal, he bowed again and left, his mind already churning with questions.

_Why has the Consort not taken the Matriarch? Is he not attracted to her? Even if he isn't, all he has to do is use his imagination and close his eyes. _What concerned the Healer more was that the contract between them had not been sealed. If there were a threat to the Matriarch would Aldúlfr fight for her? He had to find out – somehow, some way. Nothing could be allowed to happen to the Matriarch until at least one of the pups was grown enough to assume the title. The Arbitrator had requested that Myn'dill become his personal Healer, so perhaps it would be permissible to contact him and see if any Healer services were desired.

Myn'dill tapped his wrist com and activated a request to contact Aldúlfr. A rough voice answered his call. "Honorable Consort," the Healer began, "Healer Myn'dill here. I am at your service any time you require. You now have my contact code. May I be of any use to you at this time?"

"Healer, sei, I would sire pups out of the Matriarch."

"Certainly, Honorable Consort. You must come to the laboratory in the facility where the growing pups are housed. I am inputting the location for you on your com. When will you be there?"

"Next cycle, Honorable Healer. Will we be alone?"

"Sei, if you like. I usually have an assistant, but it is not required."

"Alone, then. I will be at the laboratory next cycle in the morning."

The time was then set and Myn'dill went cheerfully back to his previous work, pleased that he had been so successful in making a date to speak with the Consort. Now if he could just find a way to delicately bring up the topic. He might be able to ask if the Consort found the Matriarch…pleasing, and ask it in a way that could not be misconstrued. He would stay alert during the meeting and see what ploy he could use to find anything out.

He had met with the High Council after Sally had been made Matriarch and discussed a problem with them. Compared to the Yautja, humans had a miserably short life span. Sally was already probably halfway or more through hers. If she only lived a normal human number of years, she would be dead before any of the pups could mature and they would be left without a Matriarch.

With the Council's permission, Myn'dill had begun human life-span lengthening experiments, utilizing various mammals from the Blue Planet who shared much of their genome with the human race. If he could extend their lives, he might well be able to help Sally live longer.

As he uncovered information, he added substances to the daily pill he had formulated for her to take. It contained many ingredients that he already knew were critical for humans to function well. With medical help and Paya's blessing, Sally would live the longest life any human had ever lived and the chain of Matriarchal rule would remain intact.

The next cycle came quickly, and the Healer soon found himself alone with the feared slayer of the dishonored. "Honorable Consort, I will give you a container and some privacy and some time. If you will leave your donation in the container on the table here when you are finished,"

The Elder interrupted him, "Healer, first examine my health. My personal Healer died, it has been many long cycles since I have been certified fit."

"Certainly," Myn'dill agreed. The idea made sense. It was in societies best interest to foster only the best pups. He quickly took the blood and tissue samples, and then proceeded with the scans. The Elder appeared to be in perfect health. His bone and tissue samples were reported as normal, his brain activity was above normal for his mature age, his bones were still dense and excellent, his organs functioned…but wait, the neural scan was showing an anomaly. Some of the lower pelvic nerves had been severed in the past. The Healer could see the frontal and dorsal deep scars. The body had completed a great deal of healing, however; the nerves to the penis had never fully regrown.

Myn'dill hid his shock behind many cycles of professionalism. He had seen many things, even odd things, in his long career. He had once treated a Hunter whose member had been severed by a prey creature. He wondered why the Yautja had not retrieved the part, cooled it and brought it back for reattachment. The Healer had stifled his amazement when the patient had told him that the creature had not only bitten it off, but had consumed it and then disappeared. The entire hunt party had spent many cycles searching for the animal, but never caught up with it. Myn'dill didn't have the heart to tell the Hunter that the part had probably been digested quickly.

So now here was his Matriarch's Consort, sporting damage that had most certainly rendered the rut or much feeling at all, quite impossible. The Healer began delicately, "Honorable Consort, this is a serious injury to your pelvic nerves. When did this happen?"

"Sei, I nearly died. I was on a Badblood Hunt, nearly fifty long cycles ago. My quarry was devious. I was not careful, so I carry the price for ineptitude to this day."

"I am surprised that the injury has not…completely healed."

"I was many cycles out from any base. A searcher came and found me nearly dead. I have been told healing is incomplete because of the delay in getting treatment. The base I was taken to did not have the proper equipment. When I had stabilized, I was transferred to Yaut, and the Healers there did what they could. I have been like this since that time. I count on your silence in this matter." Aldúlfr stared intense spikes through Myn'dill's eyes which quickly lowered in submission. The Healer had no doubt that a lack of silence about anything concerning the health issues of the Arbitrator would result in his utter disappearance from life.

"Of course you have it, Honorable Consort, as do all that I heal. Please let me ask you some further questions."

"Sei," the Elder suddenly looked tired, as though he had been bearing a burden for some time.

"Do you find your state…frustrating?"

The Elder Arbitrator began to speak in a deadly snarl, "I thought my life worthless at first and thought of going on Last Hunt. You see the word does not exist for how I feel. Do you understand why I excel in my work? I put all my yearning into it. All my frustration, all my anger. I still burn. I still have desire, but not ability. Fortunately I had already sired many pups. Now I live for my profession and I endure."

_This certainly explains things,_ the Healer thought. _Will he allow me to inform the Matriarch?_ "I can still obtain your donation, Honorable Consort, directly from your production organs. May I also ask, is the Matriarch…aware of your condition?"

The Elder made what Myn'dill thought was a slightly menacing snake of his neck as he shook his great head no. "H'ko. I have no ooman words to tell her. Without the sedistim, she does not desire me. If she does, then I will address it."

"Is there any way I may be of service to you in this situation?" the Healer asked and nodded submissively, hiding his new surprise at this revelation. Why would Sally not desire the Arbitrator? Surely there would be no greater honor for a female than to mate such a one as he.

The Elder thought for a while, then spoke, "H'ko. If I need you, you will know."

The Healer's mind was racing now,_ how can their agreement be truly sealed? Does he intend to respect it as though it were sealed? How can I ask him this without affronting his honor and getting myself killed? And why is she not desirous of him? If Sal'lee ever finds out and if she values her life, she will tell no one of his condition._

Out of loyalty to the Matriarch and her offspring, Myn'dill now braved his question to the Arbitrator, "Honorable Consort, I must humbly ask you, how is your bond sealed to her?"

Growling his displeasure, Aldúlfr's immense hand shot to surround the Healer's throat, "I defend her even now, Healer! My word is my bond." A choking Myn'dill quickly demonstrated apologetic submission and was released.

"Be warned, Healer. Never question my word."

Myn'dill managed to squawk out, "I do not, Honorable Consort. Ulfr always told me that the code of the law ran through your veins. I believe him."

"When will my pups be made?"

"As soon as the current batch have been born, Honorable Consort. We limit the number created at one time so that we can give all of them proper attention."

Aldúlfr left the Healer, who was thoughtfully rubbing his throat. The strength of the Arbitrator felt as though it could crush his metal protective neck collar and take the life from him easily. All Yautja wore a collar from infancy as the neck was their weak spot and easily penetrated or injured. It was also uniquely sensitive and in the days of the Matriarchs, brave Hunters had removed their collar just before a rut.

He wondered about the Consort's injury. The science of healing was always progressing and he considered if he might be able to repair Aldúlfr's old injury. He would need to study and possibly do some trials first, out of medical honor and a smidgen of self-preservation, he did not want to risk of raising false hope in the Arbitrator's mind.


	5. Deliver Us From Evil

**Chapter 4: Deliver Us From Evil**

"…_**for the poor wren, The most diminutive of birds, will fight, Her young ones in her**_ _**nest, Against the owl." – Lady MacDuff, Act IV, Scene 2 Macbeth, by William**_ _**Shakespeare**_

The warm air was barely pushed about by the too closely seated congregation, as they waved their order-of-service papers like fans in front of their sweaty faces in the un-air conditioned church. This Sunday was a warm one for this time of year which brought the thought to Melanie - _just preparation for the after-life _while a small grin appeared on her lips. The opening hymn had been drawled out a cappella as the organist was at home recovering from lap band surgery. Melanie hoped that it would help because the poor organ bench couldn't take much more.

Sister Nancy, the organist, was a sweet, God-fearing woman who could make up a batch of cookies that tasted of heaven itself, and apparently took ample samples of everything she baked. She was always baking; it was her love in tangible form. She baked cakes for the church potluck, a pie to take to a shut-in, and cookies for every occasion. It was her cookies that brought her fame. She had even taken first place ten years ago at a Pillsbury bake-off contest with her Taste of Heaven bar cookies – a mouthgasm of crushed pineapple, cream cheese, sugar, flour and coconut.

Mel watched as her grandfather, the Reverend Dunn, rose from his chair behind the pulpit, laid his sermon notes to the side and opened the big Bible laying there. Finding his place, he gazed out at the sea of sweat and began to speak, "Brothers and Sisters, we must be careful! Satan lays in wait for us, waiting to snare each one of us, if we let down our guard. Let's look to the Holy Book for our answers…in second Timothy, chapter 2, verse 26 we read, 'and they may recover themselves out of the Devil's snare, having been taken captive by him to his will.' He made a dramatic pause and glanced out over the congregation before going on.

"And in Matthew we read, 'And, behold, a woman of Canaan came out of the same coasts, and cried unto him, saying, Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a Devil.'"

The Reverend again looked out upon the crowd, and brought his stern gaze directly to Melanie, who sat even more upright and listened intently.

"Further in the book of Matthew we also read, 'And Jesus rebuked the Devil; and he departed out of him: and the child was cured from that very hour.'" Slowly, he closed the Bible and wiped the sweat from his face with a white handkerchief. Then he looked at his flock with obvious pain on his face, "Beloved brothers and sisters, I testify to all of you here today that my granddaughter was recovered from the Devil's snare. She WAS taken captive by him to his will! And now? Now she is grievously vexed. Vexed indeed, because she is pregnant by that demon and carries the spawn of Satan inside her body."

Melanie slunk down in the pew, wishing herself to grow smaller and smaller until she could sink into a crack between the boards in the worn floor. She was certain that everyone in town and everyone in church already knew about her condition. There were too many over-the-fence, well-meaning but gossipy, neighbors to have kept what had happened to her from becoming public knowledge. But to be called out like this, in front of everyone was completely embarrassing. Besides, her abductor was no devil, she was pretty certain that he was only an ugly alien.

Reverend Dunn continued, "And just as Jesus cast out the devil from a little child, so I call upon the Lord in mighty prayer to cast this evil from her body! Right now, oh Lord!" The preacher's fist went up to the heavens, and his rapt audience gave a loud, "Amen!"

Mel knew her grandfather could wind himself tight and uncoil a mighty sermon for the Lord that would have everyone shouting, praising God and might even make some weep. She usually enjoyed his sermons, but today was different. She felt publicly shamed and didn't really know why. It had certainly not been her fault she'd gone out jogging that morning. It was not her fault that aliens were wife-hunting that day, and it was certainly not her fault that she was now pregnant. She knew that the sermon was just getting warmed up, and there would be no getting away from hearing the rest of grandfather's words, and no hiding from his piercing stare, or the glances from his flock. Mustering all the dignity she possessed, Mel got up from her seat and calmly began to depart the building, leaving a flustered minister who was unprepared for this morning's sermon topic to abruptly exit his stage.

The Reverend called out sternly after her, "Child, you cannot walk away from the truth!" Mel stopped dead in her tracks at his accusation and knew that every eye was upon her. She bit back her retort and continued walking.

No one followed Mel out, not her mom, certainly not her dad, or any of her friends. She could sit in the too warm car, waiting for the service to end or she could walk the few miles home and enjoy the pleasant early fall day. It was an easy choice and the young woman set out on the dusty dirt and gravel road. She knew that she was going to get a lecture from her folks, and probably another sermon from grandfather, but for the time it took to walk home she would enjoy peace.

The sun was high over the cottonwood trees by the lazy creek that meandered next to the road and insects buzzed about in the light that struck golden beams between the leafy branches. She crossed the bridge where the creek went underneath as beads of sweat began to form on her forehead and she felt a small dribble of perspiration run down her back. Finally making it back to the house, Mel felt the need for a quick shower.

After she was clean again and redressed, she heard the front door open. Bracing herself for a lecture, she was surprised when no one came to her room or called for her. Slowly the young mother-to-be walked out to the kitchen where Mom was busy getting Sunday dinner on the table.

"There you are! You ok honey?" she asked as she made the beef gravy. Not waiting for an answer, she then asked, "Check the biscuits will ya? Don't want 'em ta burn." Mel obediently went to the oven and opened the door as the smell of the flakey delights baking wafted to her nose. She eyed their height and brown tops and gently touched one.

"Yea, they're done." She grabbed the oven mitts and hauled the baking sheet out of the hot oven, picking up the biscuits and piling them into a towel lined basket. She finished helping get everything on the table and then her Mom called for Dad, Jase and Gramps to come to dinner.

He was here! Mel's thought that perhaps no issue would be made of her leaving church during the service was dashed upon the rocks of reality. She only hoped that this morning's medication would help her keep her roast beef down.

Everyone took their usual place and Mel found herself with her Dad on one end of the oblong table and her Grandfather had taken her Mom's usual place at the other end. Mom sat across from her next to Jase, leaving Melanie alone on her side. She bowed her head as Gramps said grace, and then began to dutifully fill her plate and pass dishes. The only conversation was between the serving spoons as they clinked on the stoneware bowls and plates.

She began to eat, keeping her eyes on the brown gravy that flowed from her mound of mashed potatoes as she dug into it with her fork. She ate carefully, monitoring any state of rebellion that might come from her stomach. There was light conversation between her parents and Gramps regarding the ranch, the weather, and Sister Nancy's surgery.

Mel got up and helped her Mom gather all the used plates, and then assisted in passing small plates of cherry pie. Her grandfather only smiled at her as she served him. Still waiting for the hammer to drop, she gave a weak smile back and reseated herself to begin eating her pie. Into her second bite, Gramps began to meet her expectations. "Mel, you missed a good sermon this morning, if I say so myself." Her parents chimed in with agreement and she knew she was outnumbered.

"I'm sorry, Gramps…I…was embarrassed by all the publicity."

"The Lord's words rang true with you then, child?" he asked in a kindly voice.

Mel knew the moment of revelation had come. She debated within over what to say as her family waited. "Mel," her Dad said, "your grandfather is expecting you to answer."

"Your truth is not my truth," Mel finally blurted out and looked her grandfather straight in the eye. She could see the shock register on his face as he drew upon God to help him formulate his reply and then he let loose, his voice rising in power and authority.

"How can you say that? Surely, this unholy spawn of the Devil is influencing you! I would rather have this abomination taken from your body than have you suffer one more minute, child! The fact that you think nothing is wrong…that's part of the deceitfulness of Satan. And I know that you believe it was not your fault, but think girl, think! Why would God have allowed this to come upon you?"

Melanie clenched her teeth together in frustration. There was no logic that would counter what her grandfather believed, and it was pointless to even try. "Gramps, I love you and I respect your beliefs. But I'm an adult now and I'm going to do the things that I believe are correct and right. I've got some time to go in growing this child, and then I have to see about raising it for awhile before they come to take it away from me."

"Melanie! You are going to help Satan raise one of his own? Can't you see the error in this? You shouldn't even allow it to be born!" The Reverend's voice was rising to a more enthusiastic pitch now. "I know a doctor over in town, a good Godly man, who will take it out Melanie and destroy it. We can take care of this right away, and then we'll hide you up in the mountains, we'll save you from that Demon!"

Mel watched her parents heads nod in agreement and felt her temper heat up as her motherly hormones finally took the field, "Look, this child is not the spawn of Satan. The father is an ALIEN, Grandfather, an ALIEN – not a demon. And I will not destroy this child! No matter how ugly it is - half of this child was made from ME! Don't any of you understand?"

Gramps stood and pronounced, "I understand that you are under the influence of the Evil One and you aren't responsible for what you are saying or deciding right now. Tomorrow we are going to town to that Doctor and end this nightmare! I am the patriarch of this family and a man of God! God has spoken in my heart of his love for you Mel, and this is what HAS to be done – for your own good, for your salvation. Your parents agree."

She said nothing after that, but looked stonily at them all. Without asking to be excused, she got up and went to her room. She stayed there all afternoon and wouldn't even come out for supper. Her parents assured each other that this was all for the best and she would get over it.

Evening came, and still she stayed in her room, thinking and planning. Well after nightfall, she heard her parents go to their bedroom. She waited in the dark, giving them time to go to sleep. She must have waited over an hour to be sure. Then she got up and on mouse feet she crept to her closet, pulled out a duffel bag and, using a penlight, packed her few clothes and essentials and made for the back door. No one was killing this baby and she knew where to go for safety – the Yautja.

Every month, they came to the city which was some twenty miles away to give the regional women carrying their offspring an examination. Every month, Mel had borrowed the car and driven to the shipboard clinic where it always landed in the city park. Mel didn't want to try and walk the twenty miles in the dark, nor did she feel safe hitch-hiking. Her monthly checkup was due next Wednesday, and if she could get to the city she might be able to hole up with one of her college friends until the ship came. But how to get to the city? On horseback of course!

She went quietly out the back door and headed to the horse corral, stopping by the barn to grab saddle blanket, saddle and bridle. Mel had been raised on the ranch and riding was near to breathing for her. She dumped her gear by the gate and using the bridle went in to catch her favorite gelding, Shorty, a line-back dun who was as gentle and reliable as they came. Like his name, he was not the tallest horse there, but she knew he could be counted on to get her to town. She tacked him up, affixed her duffel bag to the saddle rings and swung up onto Shorty. She directed him out to the field, rather than risk her folks awakening to the clip clop of hooves coming through their open window. She'd cut cross country and come into town on a back road.

She gave Shorty a gentle thigh squeeze and he obediently started off in the direction of the cattle pastures. She urged him into a trot after they had navigated the gate and she made sure it was closed behind her, grateful for all the time she'd spent learning to open and close a gate from horseback. There was half a moon on this cloudless night, plenty of light to see by. She pushed Shorty on into a lope and he gently rolled across the field as she rocked in time with him.

Up a rise they went and she slowed him to a walk with a gentle check on the rein as she stopped her forward motion with him. Giving him his head, she let him pick his way down the steep hillside. The surefooted, sturdy steed made his way through the rocks and tufts of grass until they reached the bottom safely. Mel gave his neck a stroke of reward and turned him toward the road gate. The cattle herd was between them and the road, but they were used to seeing riders and only gave Shorty and Mel a few curious glances as they walked around them. Horse and rider again navigated the gate and then headed down the dirt road for the long trip to the city.

It was about four in the morning when Mel and Shorty passed the city limits sign. She headed to a grassy spot near the Quik Trip and left the horse's reins hanging to the ground. Shorty was trained to be 'ground-tied' and short of something scaring him, would not go far from that spot. He used the opportunity to clip the short grass as Mel walked into the always-open store and got a coffee, and an egg and cheese biscuit. Now that she was pregnant, she found herself hungrier than before.

She returned to the grazing Shorty and settled down on the grass to eat her breakfast and wait for the town to wake up. There was a nearby college friend who she was certain would put her up for a few days until the Yautja doctor came to town. She wasn't quite sure what she was going to do with the horse, but figured that if she untacked him, he'd find his way home just fine – returning the way they had come. In fact, the more she thought about it the better a plan it seemed.

She unsaddled the gelding and slipped off his bridle. "Good boy," she said as she patted his rump, "Now go home!" She gave his behind a smack; he trotted a few feet and stopped to have another mouthful, then turned his neck to look at her. "Go on, Shorty! Yee Ha!" she yelled at the dun. He seemed to suddenly realize that he was sans saddle and rider and took off in a lope towards the ranch. Mel dragged the saddle and shoved it under some thick low brush and also hid the blanket and bridle. No sense leaving it out for thieves.

Taking her duffel strap over a shoulder, she headed towards her friends house. About ten blocks into the town, she turned down the side street just as the eastern sky was beginning to brighten. It was still very early and her friend was most certainly still asleep. She crawled onto the large porch swing and lay down to nap for awhile, using the duffle bag as a pillow.

* * *

The Yautja transport had been converted into a medical ship. It had quarters for the Healers and crew, as well as bays for examining and treating the ooman patients. Every medical scanner and testing device had been installed along with the full extent of their medical knowledge about these former prey animals. Also, every medication known to the Yautja was on board in ample supply. There was nothing that existed in the Yaut halls of medicine that they might need, that was not on board the small ship.

The Healer D'rengr was making a final check of the treatment bays before their scheduled trip to the small ooman settlement on the plains of one of the continents. They circled the globe along with other medical ships and made frequent landings below to ascertain the health of the pups growing in many ooman female wombs, as well as the health of the Bearer. Most females were doing well and caring for themselves and the pups in a healthy manner. Rarely, the Healers called upon the crew to detain a patient for transport back to a ClanShip or Yaut to receive greater supervision and care.

The ship's pilot contacted D'rengr via his com and he braced himself against a bolted-down table for landing. It would be another cycle of wide-eyed fearful prey females who gave off the scents of terror and intimidation as they answered his questions. D'rengr spoke very good ooman – several languages in fact, which assured his services were in demand in many Blue Planet cities. It was not the medical career of his dreams, looking at scans of ooman female uteruses, but it paid well and made for some notoriety among his peers whenever he returned to the ClanShip.

The short trip to the surface was uneventful as the usual landing in the city's strip of green was made and the portal opened for business. D'rengr waited for the few females he saw monthly in this remote port of call. The usual first came in, looking down at the floor as though she were an unworthy eta instead of the proud Bearer of a Hunter's pup. He thought what he always thought when confronted with such a cowering one, _these females do not know the honor that is given them because they are able to merge with our seed and continue our line! _

* * *

Mel's friend had found her sleeping on the porch swing and had offered her a hide-out for a few days until the Yautja came. Mel felt safe there in the little cottage and had the time to confide all that had happened to her friend, from whom she gained much needed sympathy. She watched the television news reports that evening and was not surprised that an all-out manhunt was on for her. Shorty had returned safely home much to Mel's relief, but only after wandering the countryside all day. Attempts to follow his tracks had so far only led to frustration. The report that Bloodhounds were being brought in frightened her. Would they be able to track the horse's scent to the Quik Trip and her scent from there? She didn't know for sure what their abilities were. Her parents appeared on the screen with a plea for her to come home, Mel's eyes filled and she turned the news off. The day after tomorrow, the ship would come. If she could manage to get to the park undetected, she and the baby would be safe. All day long she and her friend hatched their plan.

* * *

The Yaut Medical ship's Hunter on duty watched the small vehicle approach. It had come up a side street and then was stopped by the barrier of black and white vehicles that surrounded the green. All the Hunters had noticed this anomaly. One had researched the vehicles and found them to be used by keepers of the law – a form of ooman Arbitrator. None of them approached the ship, and none of them interfered with the females who were scheduled to be examined by the Healer, so the Yautja let them be. Nevertheless, a watch was posted to keep an eye out for any signs of aggression.

The city, county and state police had used their cars to form a barricade around the park where the alien ship had landed. They were there to stop Melanie if she made an appearance for her monthly checkup, and they sincerely hoped not to piss-off the Yautja. Her tearful parents had insisted that the baby was important to her, and so she might well appear at the park for her visit to the alien physician, so the group of police was waiting, watchful for the young woman that they all had a picture and description of.

As the Hunter on the ship kept his watch, he saw another vehicle, much smaller than the ooman Arbitrators vehicles, slowly pull up to the barricade. An ooman Arbitrator in dark clothing with a shiny metal spot on his chest, began talking with the ooman who operated the small vehicle. She showed him something which he took back to his machine for a time, and then returned. Most of the other ooman Arbitrator's quickly joined him. The ooman female got out and some of the ooman males searched the vehicle. Suddenly, on the other side of the green, another ooman female appeared running unhindered between two of the deserted vehicles. She was running towards the ship. Two of the Arbitrator's who were not searching the other ooman's vehicle began shouting at her, and when she did not stop they chased after her. The Hunter immediately alerted the rest of the crew to the situation. Although she was fast, an ooman female was very possibly being threatened.

Mel and her friend had figured that if the proper distraction were presented, she might have the opportunity to slip between the police cars and make a run for the ship. The cops might give chase, but they didn't know that Mel was a runner. The track had been her home since junior high school and she had attended college on a track scholarship. With a little head start, she'd probably make the ship before they caught her.

Mel hid in the alley behind the trash containers waiting for her friend to approach the police, directly on the other side of the small park. The ship was nearly in the middle of the grass, and as they'd seen on the early news that morning, police cars lined all the streets forming a perfect rectangle with only about a car space between each of them. She watched as the officer went up to the window-down car where her friend sat.

They'd spent hours before sunup that morning, preparing her friend with just the right sleazy clothing and just the right layers of overdone makeup and bed-tousled hair to do the job. "All I need is a pole," her friend had said, drawing a nervous laugh from Mel.

The officer wasn't looking at her friend's face as she handed him her license. Mel stifled a snicker, that top had been almost impossible to fit her friend inside of. It was something left over at the back of the closet from high school. Her friend had been a late bloomer and they'd had to cut and quickly baste a lower neckline for her to even begin to stuff her bosom into it. As it was, she nearly popped out of the neckline whenever she moved.

"But officer," her friend batted her big brown eyes, "I just want to meet the aliens and offer myself to them. Don't you believe me? I just want to have their baby!"

The officer couldn't believe what he was hearing. What kind of woman would deliberately want to have sex with one of those monsters? He went to his car and radioed the other policemen and most of the group left their cars and came over. She was ordered out of the car and was observed to wriggle from the seat in a very tight, short set of cutoffs which embellished the long tanned legs that ended in cowgirl boots. She was a doe-eyed, honky-tonk dream.

A search of her car commenced and she stood making small talk with several of the gawking officers. _Now!_ Mel sprung into her race tearing between two unoccupied police cars and set her eyes on the finish line. She carried nothing but the clothes on her back. Her firm legs set a blistering pace as her running shoes seemed to fly over the street. She strode over the curb and hit the grass like a cheetah, her legs eating up the ground.

She heard male voices behind her shouting and knew she'd been spotted. Fear for her unborn ruled as her body pumped out adrenaline and she ran faster than ever before in her life. The clumping of the males behind her, attempting to sprint in their heavy soled shoes over the street, was silenced as they made the grass behind her. It was almost like a part of her had become an observer, watching her body race the field, and the slow policemen trailing her. The observer smiled, there was no way they could catch her!

Suddenly, she realized that another group of police were also running, but coming toward her from her friend's car and were on a line of interception at a point in front of her. There was no way to get to safety except straight through them. She would not stop! She would run through them if that's what it took. She braced for impact and ordered her legs, _keep running! Whatever happens, keep running!_

She could hear the ragged breathing behind her, she could see the group of men sprinting toward her, and she could hear her friend screaming her name. Her legs pumped, her lungs burned, her arms moved in cadence with her strides. Her eyes only focused on the finish line, the open portal of the ship as she darted on. She would fight for her baby! She would claw their eyes out if they touched her! Primal motherhood took over Mel's brain as it bubbled up in unbound anger ready to defend to the death to protect her child. HER child!

The portal was only about 30 meters away now, and she could make it in a few more strides. In her focus, Mel did not see the shimmering figures leave the portal and split into two groups. The cloaked Hunters quickly ran in front of and back of incoming Mel and positioned themselves between her and the now closing in humans, leaving her a clear pathway onto the ship.

Suddenly, the police saw several extremely large and fully armed Yautja materialize in front of them. Sliding to a stop they realized that the energy weapons on the large shoulders in front of them were locked on targets as triangular clusters of light could be seen on their comrades. The officer in charge yelled to his men, "Do not engage! Slowly unholster your weapon and place it on the ground, then back away. Slowly!"

His men wisely obeyed him as the Hunter's visages flared wide and growls of challenge came forth. The crew was tired of ferrying healers around this prey planet while unable to take any trophies. One move by the humans that portrayed any aggression would be met mercilessly. The police warily laid their weapons down, and then backed away with their empty hands in the air. Only when the police had retreated to the perimeter of their vehicles did the Hunters collect the human's downed weapons and then reenter the ship. The firearms would make nice additions to many collections.

The uncloaked Hunter's were re-boarding their ship when a shot suddenly rang out. All the Yautja immediately recloaked and bounded out of the ship towards the sound. They came up short realizing that one of the oomans had taken another weapon from its machine and then somehow shot another ooman who lay bleeding profusely from her head on the ground. Muttering to themselves, they returned to the ship, only to have Dreng'r order a pair of them to recloak and disembark briefly again.

The police hovered around the downed woman. One called for an ambulance while another pressed his wadded up shirt against her head wound. She lay motionless on the ground, her tousled hair ends turning red in the pool of blood that was rapidly growing on the asphalt. On her forehead, a neat hole above one eye showed where the bullet had entered. No one dared to move her and could only imagine the size of the exit wound blown out the back of her skull. In the distance, a siren wailed but the officers knew she was already dead.

The officer trying to staunch her wound realized the hopelessness of his effort and left the body to join the others who were in a huddle, tersely conversing with the nervous careless one who's weapon had discharged. Abruptly, one of them turned around, thinking that he had heard something. "Damn!" he exclaimed, "She's gone!" They all looked at the pool of blood that was now empty of a body. A slight drag track led off to the right, but then completely disappeared.

_I'm safe, the baby's safe,_ were Mel's only thoughts as she ran between the invisible Hunters hastening to protect her from her pursuers, and up the gangplank onto the ship where she promptly smacked into the still cloaked Healer. He quickly became visible and she clung to him, panting, unable to speak until she regained her air. D'rengr recognized her, and wondered why the ooman Arbitrators had chased her. He helped her to an ooman-sized seat and waited for her to regain her speech. Seated, she laid her forehead down on her knees until the worst of her oxygen starvation was over. She felt dizzy, but elated that she had crossed the finish line! _My baby is safe!_

In spite of the extreme effort she'd just put forth, Mel was in good condition and her breathing soon calmed. The Healer then led her to the medical bay. "Ooman," he asked, "why were they chasing you?"

"I ran away from home. My family was going to murder my baby."

The Healer was shocked, but not totally surprised. It had happened before. "You are brave female. Did the oomans know that your family was going to do that?"

"No, they only knew that I was missing. They were trying to catch me to return me to my family. I could have told them, but I don't know for certain they would have believed me." Mel was suddenly in tears. She had done it. She had run away and was back in the hands of the Yautja. "I'm afraid of you, you know. But…I couldn't let them kill my child."

"You are safe now female," he consulted her data. "Your name is Mel-an-ee?"

"Yes, Mel for short."

"Where is your family, Mel? We would like to know."

"I'm sure you would, but I'm never going to tell you. I will not have you taking any revenge against them."

"Mel, what they would do is against our laws, they are what we call Badbloods and there is only one punishment for them."

"I will not tell you. They are my family, they just don't understand this. And I love them."

The Healer dropped the subject for now, and began to run his tests on the female. She lay quietly on his table as she was scanned and then allowed him to take his small blood and tissue samples. "Is the baby ok?" she anxiously asked.

"Yes, the pup seems fine, as do you. You are safe now; you will be taken to the ClanShip of the pup's Sire. You will stay there until the pup is born and raised, and then you can decide what you want to do."

_I'm returning to the fate I was so happy to escape. Now I am grateful to God that it exists. I will miss Mom, Dad and Grandpa, but I will go back someday._ "What is your name, please?" she asked the Healer.

"D'rengr, Healer D'rengr, Honorable female."

"Drain-grrr," she prounounced, looking up at him.

"You may simply call me Healer, if you like." He led her to vacant ship's quarters and retrieved some bedding for her. "Rest, Mel. We have a few more cycles of stops to make and then a ship will come to take you to the ClanShip."

"Oh, you won't be taking me then?"

"No, my work is here. Another ship will come." He scented her rising fear. "The ship's crew are all honorable Hunters, Mel. They will not harm you."

"But I don't know them, Healer. I know you…at least a little."

He smiled a Yautja smile with his mandibles. "Perhaps you can spend some time with them on this ship before they depart, that way you will know them before you leave. Would that assist you?"

"That might help. Thank you, Healer."

"I am honored to assist you, Honorable Mel-an-ee. Let me show you where to sit, we will be taking the ship back into orbit around your planet." D'rengr assisted Melanie in getting into the Yautja-sized chair in her room and showed her how to strap in with the special harness he had retrieved from storage for her. A Hunter could simply hand on to the metal grips on the chair arms if need be, but oomans were very fragile and he did not want to risk her falling and injuring the pup.

After leaving her room, he returned to his workspace to consult the breeding database as the ship returned to space. He was searching Melanie's record to see who the Sire was. His mandibles opened in surprise when he saw the name listed in her file. She carried the pup of a mate of the Matriarch! He quickly sent a message to request a transport for her to Sig'dan's Clanship, requesting that Sig'dan be contacted regarding the situation, and then rechecked all the tests he'd done on Mel to reassure himself of the health of the unborn. When dealing with anyone in the inner circle of a Matriarch, one could never be too careful. He received a response almost immediately as a transport was already in the vicinity bringing supplies to the orbiting medical ships. The ooman would be sent on her way within a few cycles.

Melanie spent the following days having an amazing experience. First the ship landed near a town in the Swiss-Italian Alps. She knew where they had landed as she made out the distinctive boot-shaped country from space. Several women came to see the Healer and Melanie was allowed to leave the ship and take in the sights as long as she stayed within the seeing distance of the crew. She was amazed at the picturesque dark stone buildings, and the rugged, snow-crowned mountains and the fresh alpine air was exhilarating.

D'rengr allowed her to spend time with the females, who both spoke a bit of English. They would have exchanged more information if they could have met in private; instead they spoke some polite words and hugged each other when it was time for the women to leave.

The ship took off again, soaring to the east across a great expanse of water. Mel scoured her memory of geography and came up with 'Adriatic Sea'. The ship continued over land coming back to rest by huge fields of beautiful sunflowers. Low green mountains back dropped the flowers. Where were they? Romania? Hungary? There were no lines dividing countries or neatly written country names to read as they descended. On the other side of the ship, a small farming community was visible.

After a short wait, five women walked together on the rough path and came onto the ship. They wore dark skirts, blouses and sweaters. Each of the comely young women wore her hair in braids. There all were very hardy looking country people like herself, Mel surmised. None of them spoke English, but they all smiled at her and she beamed back in appreciation of their warmth. There were no boundaries between women caught in this situation. They were locked together in the sisterhood of pup bearers.

After all the women had been seen, Mel was instructed to take a seat in one of the Healer's chairs, secure herself, and the ship once again hurtled toward space. "Where to now?" Mel asked the Healer.

He replied, "We will orbit for a cycle and then go to meet your transport to the Clanship. Their crew will board us and you will be introduced to them."

Melanie sat in her chair expecting to feel some forward momentum as the ship accelerated and left Earth for high orbit, but felt nothing. _I should have taken physics class,_ she thought. When it was safe to walk about, she returned to her room to wait out the day.

The Healer brought food to her room some hours later. She was surprised when something made a noise in her quarters, and then repeated several times. The door finally opened to reveal D'rengr. "I have brought you a meal." He walked in and placed a bowl on the small table. "The noise you heard was the com, it is polite to signal someone inside a room and request entrance." He then showed her where the com was located and how to answer it with, 'sei'. Mel thanked him for the food as he left.

She climbed up onto the chair and found the bowl filled with some chunks of cooked meat as well an apple and some blueberries! _So they at getting at least some of their food from Earth_, she reasoned. _Or do they grow our fruits on their native world?_ _Unlikely. _

Mel cautiously tasted the meat and found it quite good, although she was not certain what animal it came from. Had the Hunter's been procuring venison or beef from Earth? This meat tasted much sweeter than any game or beef she'd ever tasted before. Suddenly, she felt nauseous when she realized that it might be from a person. Sliding out of her chair, she braved leaving the room and tried to find the Healer. She hadn't paid close enough attention to the path they followed to get to her room and soon found herself lost on the ship. Every hall looked alike to her as she tried to make sense of where she was. She heard the growls of alien voices, and followed the sound to a room with a large table around which were seated several Yautja. Their conversation abruptly halted as they regarded at her in surprise.

The Healer broke the silence. "Mel-an-ee, is there something that you need?"

"I…uh…was eating…and I have an important question," she put forth anxiously.

"Was the food not to your liking?" the Healer surmised.

"No, the food is delicious, but I have a question…about the meat."

"Yes?"

"Uh…what kind of…animal is it from?" Melanie wavered a bit and grasped the door frame in anxiety over the answer.

"It is from one of our usual prey animals. I assure you that it is safe for you to eat."

Melanie stood, evaluating his answer. _Don't they consider us prey animals?_

When the female kept standing, D'rengr approached her. "Is there something more?" he asked quietly, shielding the others from seeing her. She scented of great distress.

Mel cast her eyes to the ground, suddenly shy about what she needed to ask. Then her voice ventured forth her question in a whisper, "Is the meat from humans?"

D'rengr pinched his mandibles to his inner jaw line before he answered her. "I assure you that the meat is not from your kind. It is from a creature on a planet far from yours that walks on six legs. It is not human flesh."

"T-thanks," stumbled out of her mouth. "Could you please take me back to my room? I'm afraid that I don't know the way."

D'rengr escorted the embarrassed female back to her quarters where she resumed her meal and then returned to his own repast. Sitting down with the crew, one of them asked, "What was that all about?"

"Oh, apparently the little thing was eating away and the thought occurred to her that the flesh might be from her own kind. She was very worried about it. So I reassured her it was not."

The crew chortled and clicked in response, until the Healer spoke again. "I feel less than honorable lying to her, but I consider it a therapeutic lie. She would not have consumed the needed protein if she knew its origin. As the Earth saying goes, 'Waste not, want not'. We needed fresh meat, and I wasn't about to let the body of that unfortunate female that the ooman Arbitrator shot just lay there and rot. Besides, what useful thing would they have done with it?"

The time en route to the ride to Mel's new home went by quickly. And soon the Healer informed her over the com that they had reached the transport ship. She wondered how fast they had traveled. As she lay on the bed she felt the bump of something that jarred the ship. No alarms sounded, so she reasoned that all was well, assuming that the Yautja would have alarms should something be wrong. Who knew, perhaps they preferred to go down in a blaze of ignorance?

There was a noise at her door, someone was requesting entrance, but Melanie didn't realize that. She stared at the doorway and then went to it as it obediently sensed her presence and opened. A large Hunter stood there, one of the crew she figured, come to take her to meet the ones who would transport her to the Clanship. The Hunter looked her straight in the eyes, and then let them rove over her body, finally coming to rest on her moderately protruding middle.

_What's the matter with him? Hasn't he ever seen anyone pregnant before? He's starting to give me the creeps!_

The Hunter finally nodded and said, "Mel-an-ee, you do not know me, do you? I am Sig'dan, the Sire of your unborn pup."

"Sig-dan?" She looked more carefully at him as many of them looked quite alike to her. There was nothing about him that wasn't similar in her eyes to most of the others.

"Yes...I didn't recognize you." She had no idea what to say after that. She'd not expected to see him again, and she couldn't help but feel a shiver of remembered terror.

"I heard what happened, Mel-an-ee. You are brave, and I wished to honor you for what you have done in saving the life of my pup."

"Your pup? Well, it's only half yours. Half of the contribution came from me, remember? And I would NEVER let anyone hurt it – NEVER," she said most firmly, cradling her middle with her arms.

_This female is a true Bearer, _Sig'dan thought, _although she still fears me._ _She defends her pup with her life, just as Sal'lee said ooman females would do when she spoke to the High Council. _"Are you hungry?" he asked her, "We are getting ready to eat on our transport ship, and I would invite you to join us."

"I am always hungry," she confessed, walking with him to where the ships were joined. "Sig-dan?" He turned to her question. "I…uh…appreciate that you came."

"Thank you. I thought that I should be the one to accompany you back. I was off-world in a Hunter's transport which was able to take me to the ship we will be traveling on. We will be going to my home planet, Yaut, as the Matriarch Sal'lee has requested."

"Oh, I thought we were going to your Clanship."

"Normally, yes. But Sal'lee has requested for you to come to her."

"Wow. I remember Sally calling herself, Matriarch. Is she a queen or something?"

"In a way…yes."

He showed her the way to the galley and with her permission, set her up on a high stool at a table and took a seat beside her. "I know that most oomans prefer cooked meat, is that your preference?"

She nodded her agreement, and watched as he held a strip of meat on a metal skewer over some type of brazier. When it was brown and a bit charred, he laid it on her plate and began to help himself to his large platter of raw flesh.

Mel watched in fascination and repulsion as the extremely hungry Sig'dan conveyer belted the meat from his hand to his mouth using his mandibles. It was like watching an assembly line! When one hand was emptied the other took its place, palm full of red strips of some slain creature. Suddenly he stopped and looked at her, "Are you not hungry?"

"Uh, what animal is this meat from?"

"It is from a Rynth, Mel. Rynth are grazing animals like your own cattle, but much larger."

Satisfied with the answer, she picked up her own serving and began nibbling at it. It was consumable, although not as tasty as the meat back on the medical ship. She heard Sig'dan chuffing at her and looked up into his sparkling bemused eyes. "You will starve if you keep eating like that. My…our pup needs food, most dainty one."

She did a double-take at him, surprised at his comment, but then began to take actual bites of the meat. She chewed and swallowed them, finding it rather tasty but needing thorough chewing. He cooked three more small pieces for her, one at a time as she needed them. Then he gave her some cut fruit which she sampled and then devoured, as well as several mugs of water.

He looked at her meat juice and fruit stained chin, satisfied that she had consumed enough nutrition for herself and the pup. "It is late in our cycle, I'll show you to your room," he offered, and she followed him obediently from the galley to the crew quarters where he showed her how to work the sanitary facility as well as the shower.

She settled into the sparse accommodations, built for the temporary residence of crew members and Hunters, not for the luxury of human guests. Sig'dan had offered her a medication to assist her in getting to sleep if she wanted it. After his explanation that it would not hurt the baby she took the vial of liquid and placed it by her bedside.

_I'm on my way to the alien planet now. No going back this time, until after junior is born. Will they let me name him? What would be a proper name for a half Yautja baby? Fredator? Seimor? They should set up their main clinic in Tuscaloosa or Tuscany!_

Mel laughed inside at her silliness and realized that her mind was running like a mouse in a maze. She decided to trust Sig'dan, after all it was his baby too, and drank down the medication. _He doesn't seem quite as awful as I remember_ _him_, was her last thought as she fell asleep swathed in soft brown fur, and the transport flew on towards Yaut.


	6. Do or Die

**Chapter 5: Do or Die**

_**Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm – Steven Wright**_

Sig'dan had explained to Sally the reason that he needed to leave for a little while. There was significant justification, because he had not been on a hunt in quite a span of time. Between his assignment to the Paya's House mission and then being the Matriarch's rock as she adjusted to life on Yaut he'd not even searched for a worthy hunt. Also, he needed a break from seeing the Arbitrator make his demands for her right in front of him. Aldúlfr had given him permission to briefly leave his training, so now the young Hunter sought permission to leave from Sally. After hearing his reasons, she gave Sig'dan her reluctant blessing. An unenthusiastic consent not because she would deny him his hunt, nor because she couldn't stand to be without him, but because she missed spending her days with him and was resentful of the inexplicably strange demands of her Consort.

She did not truly comprehend the Yautja need to hunt, but understood that it was critical to his kind and so was respectful of it. She also sympathized with his feelings about her continual sexual domination being thrown in Sig'dan's face by Aldúlfr. _Perhaps a break from being_ _around each other would settle both my Consort and my Sig-dan, _she contemplated.

While Sig'dan was away, Sally spent her days trying to accomplish her usual agenda - tending to the unborn pups, studying translated readings on techniques of pup-rearing and, more recently, trying to figure out what her Consort was up to. Myn'dill had insisted that it would be dangerous to inquire why the Arbitrator had not mated with her yet, so she was left to her own observations of him to attempt to figure it out. She had discarded the idea of consulting Sig'dan after the Healer's warning.

Her Consort spent little time with her, being out and about during each day busy with she-knew-not-what. Each night he returned to his pile of pillows and furs on her floor. She wondered why he came to her room each night. Did he not have his own quarters? Mostly, he completely ignored her. She watched him on the occasions that he was around, but made no further attempts to communicate with him – other things occupied her mind and honestly, she didn't have the energy. As the cycles meandered by, she wished Sig'dan were back, she missed his company as well as his translation ability.

Initially curious as to how the Arbitrator spent his cycles, Sally now found it easier just to watch him instead of trying to ask questions. She resigned herself to living a very strange life as she ignored the empty place still imprinted by Ulfr in her heart.

The Matriarch was feeling many things on this alien planet, even as she tried to bury her emotions of loss. Although Ulfr would always hold a special place in her psyche, Sally was certain that she had deep feelings for Sig'dan. He was her brightest blessing in all that had happened and in this little understood world. She also felt determined to be a good mother to her children, hence all the preparation and study. In the dark of the middle of the night when she tossed and turned with her thoughts, she recognized that even with Sig'dan around, Ulfr's death had left her feeling abandoned on this strange adventure. She longed for his presence and his guidance. She also felt like a failure regarding Paya's House. How could she have studied the Yautja and understood so little about them? About how much they valued honor, and what the routine at Paya's House would look like – no, WAS to them?

She had tried many times to return to her old friend meditation as a way to deal with loss and change, but found her mind unable to concentrate. It was scattered about on a horizontal plane, tending ideas about the instruction of her children, the loss of Sig'dan's constant company, her annoying Consort as well as the Ulfr sized hole in her soul.

She felt less and less like the Administrator these days, and certainly not much like a Matriarch. Who could understand any order she might give them anyway? So, she kept her focus on communing with the pups, and learning the best way to raise them. The growing maternal bond with them made her feel round and soft inside, rather than angular and hard. Back on Earth, she had always been the decision-maker, the one you could count on to get the job done. She still was, she thought, although currently the job involved the future of her children. For now, a great deal of time was spent in study and contemplation rather than assessing situations and making decisions, but even the study was begining to try her as the vast information about pup rearing spun around in her brain.

She slogged through her days, and was restless during her nights. It was all taking a toll on her body and her mind. Sally, in her dogged determination, would not complain to anyone, nor ask for help. She would see this through; she owed it to her children and to Ulfr. What Sally didn't realize is that someone was watching and evaluating her. Her health was of paramount concern to her Healer, who was trying to ensure that she lived a very long life – long enough for one of her daughters to become Matriarch. He gathered daily reports on her from her asseigan, and others she interacted with, and he realized that she was not functioning as her usual self.

She was in the pup room, petting and talking to the vats when Myn'dill interrupted her. The pups were now only four moons from birth and she could feel them as they bumped into the womb walls, shifting about in their watery universes.

"Sal-lee, may I…speak?" He looked seriously at her.

She replied with some anxiety, "Of course, are the pups alright?"

"They are well. Do not worry. I came to speak." He had been working seriously to learn more of her language but was not much improved.

"Okay, may we sit down? I'm a little tired."

They went to the wall bench by a row of enwombed pups. Sally climbed the steps that had been built for her and sat on the bench. The Healer seated himself near her and then studied his lap for a moment, trying to find a way to begin. Sally waited patiently as she knew that English was not his forte.

"Sal-lee, you spoke to High Council…recall?"

"Yes, Myn'dill, I remember it well!"

"You spoke…you were Matriarch."

"Oh, I remember! I was very nervous, but I had to help my kind. You know…the human females."

"You stop Ulfr and Sig'dan."

She laughed, "Yes, they were threatening to go at it right in front of all the Clan High Elders! Thank you for reminding me, Healer, I've not had a good laugh in some time!"

"Sal-lee, you…you not Matriarch now." She cocked her head at him, and he looked at her for a long serious moment. "No good, Sal-lee. Danger. Must be Matriarch."

"Well, I honestly haven't been feeling much like a Matriarch. I miss Ulfr, I'm tired, and I'm trying to figure out how to raise these pups once they are born. I'm worried that I won't do a good enough job. I don't seem to have the energy I did back at Paya's House." She looked downcast after beginning her confession. "Sig'dan has gone on a hunt – I miss his company. And I've given up trying to understand my Consort. He ignores me. I have no idea what he does during the day. I have no idea why he sleeps in my room at night. We can't talk and we don't understand each other!"

The Healer had concluded earlier from her scent, and now it was confirmed by the scatter of words that he understood, that she was afflicted with a great sadness, a misery that she seemed not to be able to get over on her own. This condition, if it continued, would not only jeopardize her position as Matriarch, it would jeopardize the future of her pups. He could not allow this to happen without somehow informing her of what was at stake. What had happened to her assertiveness, her aggression that was so critical to being a leader? Was she not able to let go of Ulfr and let him pass into her history? _Oomans are odd creatures. They live in the past and the future; rarely do they live right now. _

"Sal'lee, take one…morning, before eat. Help…sadness." He handed her a vial of small tablets and spread his mandibles in a gesture of threat before continuing, wanting his message to be unmistakable, "Sal'lee, good Matriarch speak High Council. No good now. No good Matriarch, Sal'lee. Danger!"

She sat bold upright suddenly comprehending his announcement. _Danger? For my children? For Sig'dan? For_ _me? _"Danger from who, from where, Myn'dill?"

Myn'dill continued his mandible spread and motioned out the door with one hand and then out the window, "All there, Sal'lee. Danger all there."

She considered his words for a few minutes, and then asked, "There is danger from other Yautja because I am not a good Matriarch?"

"Sei," he nodded most seriously.

"I knew it! I'm a lousy Matriarch, and my pups will suffer because of it!"

In desperation for her to understand, the Healer grasped her by the shoulders, "H'ko! H'ko! Sal'lee, good Matriarch. Not good…now. Must good…now." He cocked his head waiting for her to comprehend.

"You mean…I was good before the High Council, but not now?"

"Sei!" he released her and relaxed, now that she had understood his meaning.

"Can good now?" he questioned.

"I'm not still sure what you mean, I know I've not been feeling like a Matriarch, or even Paya's House Administrator lately."

"What gave you…take…will help."

"I believe you, but what must I do to be a good Matriarch?"

Myn'dill processed her question and slowly formed the words in his mind before uttering them, "Lead! Talk…must…lead! Matriarch lead, not aseigan."

"Thank you for trying to help. I have been very…passive and that is unlike me. I will try, Myn'dill."

"Not try. Do. Do or die," he said with grimness in his eyes. "Pups die. Do for you, do for pups, do for Ulfr…here," he placed a finger on one side of her head and watched the moisture drop from her eyes to her cheeks. The scent of deep, painful and hidden mourning wafted to Myn'dill, informing him that she was even sadder than he had realized.

"I will."

"What give you…take now, then sleep, take again…morning. Take all morning…then all gone…not take, Sei?"

"You want me to take one now, then take one every morning until they are gone?" she clarified.

"Sei! After sleep…you DO."

Sally collected her Yautja entourage without having to say a word. Yin and Yang accompanied her back to her dwelling, glaring at anyone who dared come too close or cross her path. When the reached the front door, she spoke to them, "I will not go out again this cycle, stand guard until you are replaced." _That was an effort, but might as well start now._

The guards eyed each other curiously, wondering what she had told them. After she left they compared translations and finally decided to simply assume their door-side positions and wait. If the Matriarch was displeased they would soon know.

Sally took one of the tablets and undressed for bed, welcoming the Healer's instructions to sleep. Of late she had been thoughtfully gathering a pile of pillows and furs at bedtime for her Consort to sleep on. _Geez, a regular Yautja servant. Quit kissing his ass, Matriarch, and get your act together. He wants to sleep on the floor? He can get his own damn pillows and why in hell is he sleeping in here anyway?_

The next morning, she awakened and promptly got out of bed, noticing the familiar pile of contrived bedding in the middle of the floor. As usual, he was gone. Stretching, she realized that she felt…good. She'd rested well during the night and her body seemed actually lighter instead of feeling like she was toiling through mud. She took another of the tablets and got ready for the day. An aseigan brought her breakfast and, as she ate, Sally made a list of things she wanted to do this cycle. When her list was finished, she contacted Myn'dill.

"Healer, I'm finished with not understanding what everyone is saying. I need a translator assigned to my staff. Can you arrange for this for me?"

"Sei, Matriarch. Will do now." He had the perfect candidate already in mind, a mature seasoned Hunter who spoke the Matriarch's language as well as Ulfr had. He hailed from the Clan Dor'an, fabled in saga as the first clan of the Yautja. Those of this clan usually did not mingle much with the other Clans, even for the rut. They were a large group, large enough to keep their genes fit because they were strict about not breeding too close to one's own bloodline. Throughout the Clans they were renowned for their historical prowess in war as well as legendary honor. Even though the Clans had not warred with each other in thousands of long cycles, the Dor'an still prepared their young in the traditional warrior way. A Badblood in their line was virtually unknown in recorded history. _However, few have the secret knowledge of our distant Foresires, _he reminded himself.

Sally thanked Myn'dill, and was about to say 'goodbye' but caught herself and for the first time she cut the com without another word. This left the Healer chuffing to himself, _the Matriarch is returning!_

She was about to leave her apartment to visit the pups when the communication com demanded attention. "Sei," she answered.

"Sal'lee, it is Sig'dan."

"Sig'dan! I'm so happy to hear your voice! How was your hunt?"

"I have been called away from the hunt and I wanted to inform you. I am on a transport ship sent from my Clanship to the Blue Planet."

Sally interrupted him in a worried voice, "Is everything okay back on Earth?"

"I am unaware of any difficulties there. Do you remember the ooman female that carries my pup?"

"Yes, Melanie, yes I remember her."

"She has claimed sanctuary with us. Her family was going to harm the pup," he growled.

"How horrible! I can hear the upset in your voice. So she is safe now?"

"Yes. I am traveling to escort her to my ClanShip. She was very brave in running from her family and faced danger in coming to the Healer's ship. I thought it best for me to accompany her."

"I understand," Sally said. "Sig'dan, instead of taking her to your ClanShip…is it possible for Melanie to come here, to Yaut? I would like to see her again."

"Yes, it is. You must only order it and it will be done."

"Then I order it, Sig'dan. I look forward to seeing her, and you. How soon will you be here?"

"In five cycles."

"I will see you soon then. Sig'dan…I have missed you."

"I long for your presence also, Sal'lee. But in purity, I do not like seeing you with my Sire. It was different with my brother – we had agreed to share you. My Sire simply demands whenever he wishes and you must submit. It seems that he goes out of his way to demand you in front of me."

"I know this is difficult. I don't know if this helps you but…I don't enjoy him…like I enjoy you. I prefer you Sig'dan, never forget that."

Silence responded to her statement as the Hunter thought over her admission. "I am pleased with your words. I prefer you also – as you know. I told you before – remember?"

"I remember. I'll see you soon then."

"Sei, soon." The line fell silent and Sally stood for a moment reliving their conversation. _He still prefers me. To whom? The only other woman he's fucked was Melanie. So I guess that's what he means. I remember that he said he didn't even know if he could want a Yautja female. Melanie is so young, and so pretty, and can bear him a child…_

Sally shook off her thoughts and went to visit her children early, in order to make the most efficient use of her time. She did not know how long it would take for Myn'dill to locate her a translator, but she intended to make the most of him when he appeared. Yin and Yang sensed a change about her this day. Her stride was quicker and she did not linger after visiting each pup, nor did she give off any scent of sadness. When she was ready to return she arched an eyebrow at them and strode off in the direction of her apartment. They fell in quickly, one in front and one directly behind her, doing their job, although not consciously realizing that they felt a greater sense of security from her leadership.

Back at her rooms, she was settling at her desk to read when she was interrupted by the com via its chime. _What now?_ "Sei?" she questioned. The growls of her guards came through the device to her. She wasn't able to understand much of it. "Wait there," she ordered and went to the door, wondering what could be going on. Her guardians had never requested her to attend them at the door before – if that is indeed what they had said.

Outside the door, those mountains of security, Yin and Yang, held a strange Yautja at bay with their mandibles outstretched in wide challenge. The Matriarch would have to approve before he was allowed near her or in the dwelling.

"Who…are you?" she asked him, unable to keep from staring as she looked him over in wonderment. He was certainly the most distinctive Hunter she had ever seen. Standing before her was a large adult, fully matured, but not yet white locked. Instead of shiny black, his locks were a dark battleship gray and upon his forehead was a Clan symbol that looked like an upside-down English letter 'V'.

He was of good size but not huge, and his well-toned body, although beautifully muscled, was a bit on the rangy side for a Yautja. The stranger's eyes were not the usual spectrum of some blend of amber, gold, or the more usual brown. Instead, they were storm cloud gray! His locks sported ample bright silvery rings and shone with health in the sunlight. Sally noticed the perfect pattern of darker splotches which marked his grayish brown skin and then faded to a paler taupe shade on his abdomen. The Matriarch had never seen a Yautja colored like this before. The full effect was quite striking.

His face was also different. The side jaws were somewhat smaller than she was used to seeing on a grown Hunter. In fact, his features were altogether more refined, from his leaner mandibles to his mildly waved crown. Was he an anomaly? Why was he so different from the others?

Sally pulled herself from regarding his appearance and regally asked, "What is your name?"

Nodding most respectfully, the stranger replied, "I am called Theron, Honorable Matriarch, of the Clan Dor'an. I am sent by your Healer, Myn'dill."

"Theron, you will accompany me and act as my translator. You will interpret exactly what is said to me, and exactly what I say to another. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Honorable Matriarch, on my honor I will do as you command."

"How did you come to learn my language and speak it so well?"

"I have studied ooman language, especially English, for many of your years, Honorable Matriarch."

_That is already so annoying! Should I have him continue calling me that in every damn sentence? If I don't, I may appear weak. Best to tolerate it for now._

"I assume you were studying it to hunt humans or to breed? Would that be the case, Theron?" she asked him as though she were most comfortable with the subject.

Surprised at her knowledge, he replied, "To hunt, Honorable Matriarch."

"Do you know how I may speak with the High Council? I have some requests of them."

"I do, Honorable Matriarch. May I be so bold as to ask what you will request of them – only so that I may aid you?"

"First, I wish to begin the construction of a teaching facility for my pups. There is much they need to learn, and I wish them to be kept separate from the young male pups, considering the circumstances.

Second, I wish for private rooms for my Consort to be constructed next to mine with an adjoining doorway."

"You have wisdom regarding your offspring, Honorable Matriarch. I will make an appointment for you to address the Council. I will need to use your house com to do this." He wisely refrained from remarking on the Consort's apartment.

Sally wondered, _is he kissing my ass? But that would be very un-Yautja-like_ _wouldn't it?_ "Very good, Theron," she motioned inside to the location of the com. "It is okay, Yin, Yang. He can enter, I will be fine. You two stay out here."

The translator was about to enter the dwelling when he found Yang's well-muscled arm extending a blade to block his way. A surprised Sally heard Yin mangle her language to say, "No, Ma-tree-rk. We…pro-tek you. Must." He looked down at the ground in submission to her with his head cocked to keep one eye on the stranger. She did a double take as it dawned upon her that indeed she didn't know this Yautja and it would be prudent to have her guard with her. She motioned for Yin and Yang to follow her inside with Theron and thought she heard one of them give an audible sigh of relief. It probably would have meant their lives if anything happened to her, she realized. _Will I ever achieve a Yautja mentality?_

Once inside, Theron made his call and returned to her, explaining, "Honorable Matriarch, the High Council Leader states that you have an appointment at any time you care to come to the Council Hall. Other business will be set aside for you."

Sally was amazed at this, just how much power did the old Yautja Matriarchs have? And how much of it could she, as a mere human, utilize for herself on behalf of human Bearers and also her pups? The only way to find out was to try, any walls pressed that did not budge would delineate her boundaries.

"Theron, I have another question for you. Do you speak English with your mates? I would enjoy meeting them, if any of them are still here and speak my language."

Theron looked down for a moment and appeared reluctant to respond to the question. Sally held her ground, staring at him waiting for his answer. Finally he spoke, "Honorable Matriarch, I have no mates."

"Why not? You are a mature blooded Hunter."

"I will not mate with those that are not my kind, Honorable Matriarch."

Her eyes widened in surprise, this was new information. "Are there others like you?"

"Yes, Honorable Matriarch, many in my Clan have taken a vow not to…" He stopped midsentence as though he was concerned about continuing.

"Finish what you are saying," she ordered while skewering him with a piercing gaze.

"We have taken a vow not to mate with prey." He looked uncomfortable again.

Sally gave a chuckle. "Well, if all of you had done that I'd not be here right now and we'd not have all these problems would we?"

"You are correct, Honorable Matriarch," he answered, clearly relieved to have not offended her.

"Theron, tell me – why do you not wish to mate with prey?"

"Any pups produced would be of mixed blood, Honorable Matriarch."

"And why is that a problem?" she asked him, curious as to his reasoning.

"I do not wish to offend you, Honorable Matriarch." He bowed his head to her, managing to look dominant at the same time he was demonstrating submission.

"I am not easily offended Theron. I wish to understand. Answer my question."

"Having ooman genes in our Clan would…weaken it," he obediently answered and then waited for her reaction.

"Does your group have a name?"

"We call ourselves, Paya Nrak'ytaras, Honorable Matriarch. That means Guardians of Paya."

"That makes sense Theron. Paya, the goddess of life, and your organization guard the creation of life for your species in that you will not mate with those not of your kind and dilute your genetics, correct?"

Taken aback at the depth of her understanding, Theron again bent his head low to her, "Yes, you understand. And, may I say that we watch the creation of our new females with great anticipation, Honorable Matriarch."

"As do I," she replied as she pressed her lips together in displeasure, unwilling to carry his comment further, _yea, I just bet you all are_ – _horny bastards. _"You understand although they will appear Yautja, they will still be half human, don't you?"

"Yes, Honorable Matriarch, but in a few generations our line will be nearly one hundred percent Yautja."

Sally smirked, "Yet your kind will always carry a bit of my genes. Even buried in time there will be occasions when it will appear."

Theron said nothing, but thought, _careful screening will eliminate those pups. Someday our line will be pure again! _

"I am curious, how did your Clan plan to procreate before my pups were created? Your vow seems a path to self-destruction."

"I…am not privy to that information, Honorable Matriarch."

"I will go to the Council Hall, accompany me." She stepped outside and beckoned her guards who did not need to be called, but it made the desired impression on Theron as she commanded the two behemoths away from each side of her doorway. The translator could scent her displeasure during their conversation and he wondered what had caused it and why she had not reprimanded him. Was she generous because of her strength, or simply weak?

The translator walked beside and slightly behind the Matriarch, Yin went ahead of her to clear the way and act as point. Behind them, Yang brought up the rear, alert to any threat coming from behind. The guardians had noted Theron's famed Clan mark as well as his muscled maturity. If he proved his loyalty, he would be a welcome addition on their side in any confrontation.

They made their way through the crowded streets as Yin parted the multitude and made a path for them. He caught several Hunters by surprise, but their spread faces of displeasure quickly turned to submissive nods as they realized it was the Matriarch's entourage. Many Hunters stopped what they were doing to turn and give a slight bow of deference to her as she passed. She only gave the slightest of nods back and kept her dignified posture as she walked to the Great Hall. The group was informed that the High Council was in deliberation in a room below their high judgment seats. An aseigan led them to the chamber.

Once there, Sally requested Theron to announce her presence to the High Council, whose members were debating a legal issue between two of the Clans. The Leader turned in his seat away from his fellows and greeted her in his native language which Theron interpreted.

"Honorable Matriarch, we welcome you to our discussion hall. How may we be of service to you?"

"Honorable High Elder, Leader of the Council, I have been thinking about the education of our future female pups and I request that the planning and construction of a special facility, just for them, be undertaken. I believe it wisdom that they be separated from the immature males until they have come of mating age."

Theron spoke her words to the Leader who nodded in understanding and turned to converse with his fellows. Several of them spoke in their clickish way and then Theron was addressed by the leader.

"Honorable Matriarch, this is wisdom to us. We will set aside a proper place for this new construction and assign our best builder to the task. He will have aseign and eta assigned to him for the completion of such a building. Is there anything else you require?"

Sally nodded to the Council, "I wish to review the plans. I may have input to them."

Theron translated her words and the Leader again spoke with his group. Then the Leader turned back and she heard his words through the translator. "Yes, after the plans are drawn up you may review them. We are honored by your participation, Matriarch."

That was not quite what Sally had in mind, "Theron, tell him that I wish to have input to the plans BEFORE they are initially drawn. That will be the most efficient use of my time and ideas."

Theron nodded and did as she instructed. The Leader stared at her, opening his mandibles the slightest degree. He turned and conversed for a longer time with the other Elders, while Sally waited, keeping all the Elders under her watchful and challenging eyes. Finally the Leader gave his answer, "We will instruct the builder and his planner of your wishes, Honorable Matriarch. They will do as you order." The Leader then nodded respectfully, and Sally nodded back.

"I have another request," she said simply as her translator interpreted for the Leader.

"State your request, Honorable Matriarch," the Leader answered.

"Rooms need to be built for the Honorable Consort. They will be located right next to mind with an adjoining doorway between the apartments."

The Leader's brows raised a little, his mandibles remained disciplined along his face. "Honorable Matriarch, it is customary for the Consort to share your quarters, and to visit his own quarters…when…when he needs too."

"I am sure that custom was sufficient when your Matriarch was Yautja. I am human, as you know, and this will be a more suitable arrangement for me. I believe it will please the Consort also." Sally kept up her assertive eye contact with the Leader until he looked slightly down in submission. This was becoming easier than she had thought it would be!

"I will ensure this is accomplished, Honorable Matriarch. Would you like to have input to this design also?"

"No, but the Honorable Consort might want a say in the design of his quarters, don't you agree?"

The Leader looked a little bemused as her comment was interpreted for him. "He will be contacted, Honorable Matriarch. Will there be anything else that I might do for you?"

"H'ko," she replied with the negative in Yautja. "I believe those two things are sufficient for now."

There was then a pause as the Elders sat or stood, regarding her. Confused, she turned to her translator for an explanation, "Theron, why do they wait?"

"They wait upon you, Honorable Matriarch, to order them to go back to their discussion."

"Tell them," she ordered. He did and the group returned to their work. Sally and company exited the building. On the way out, she asked, "Theron, is the market open in the center of the city today? I feel like celebrating!"

"It is, Honorable Matriarch."

"I wish to go there."

"It is a long distance to walk, Honorable Matriarch, I will obtain transportation for us." He punched something on his wrist com and presently, a large hovercraft slid up to them from the street. Inside, Sally sat between her guards, and the translator sat across from them, facing the Matriarch.

The vehicle floated over the streets and Sally looked over the bulk of Yin to see outside the window and enjoy observing the buildings and many Hunters going about their business. Someday there would be females walking these pathways and going to the market, there would be vendors catering to things that the females would buy. Sally wondered if Yautja females had used makeup or anything to enhance their appearance. Did they use perfume? Jewelry? More study in the library, she realized. There was a need to understand everything about the now extinct females in order to raise her pups correctly.

At the market, Sally went to the fruit vendors and found some of the red fruits she had enjoyed in the orchard with Ulfr. "Theron, I don't know how to purchase these in your society. When I last came here it with was with…my mate Ulfr. He purchased things for me. I don't even know if I have money," she explained trying to contain her embarrassment, why hadn't she thought this through before dragging everyone here?

Theron turned to her guards and they exchanged words, then he turned back to Sally, "They are no help in this matter, Honorable Matriarch. Allow me to contact someone who will know." Sally nodded her agreement and waited until he was finished with his com call. "Honorable Matriarch, you have been granted generous funds by the High Council in exchange for your services to our race. Purchase what you wish, I will pay for you and then show you how to return payment to me at your residence. I will also show you how to access your funds. Select what you desire, and it will be delivered to you later this cycle."

"That is most generous of you, Theron."

The translator couldn't help wonder who had let the Matriarch out in society without knowledge of some of the most basic things. It seemed his responsibilities also now included educating her, and nearly being her aseigan! This displeased him greatly – he had only been hired as a translator. He would have to discuss this with her in private, whenever he would be allowed to be alone with her, as he would not risk a public show of her anger towards him. No telling what her guards would do. He had his pride, but he was not stupid. He could probably have taken one of her huge guards solo, but both of them? That was too much risk for only an affront to his self-esteem.

A delighted Sally purchased several types of fruit and then made her way to the cloth stalls. A drab bluish fabric caught her eye and she obtained enough of it to make an eye catching outfit to wear for Sig'dan. She remembered being with Ulfr here, and the teal cloth he had purchased for her. But instead of being upset, she was able to recall the happiness of being with him, rather than the sadness of his absence and felt grateful for the time they had spent together.

_Myn'dill, I owe you. Thank you for this medication…it has given me my life back. I must find some way to reward his service to me. _

Feeling the softness and admiring the sheen of the cloth, she thought of the short tailor who had made her ceremonial clothing. He would be worth contacting again as his creation had been of great quality. She hummed a happy tune to herself with no thoughts regarding any kind of depressing lack in her life as the group walked back to the hovercraft to return home. It had been a long time since she had done something that was frivolous and fun.

Theron gave her a sidelong glance as they returned to their vehicle. She was making some sort of soft low noise, but did not appear to be in any kind of distress. Yin and Yang had started a bit when she began the sound, but scenting no distress from her they assumed it was some other strange ooman custom. Theron discretely huffed and found that she emanated contentment. He had never heard such a noise before, and found the rhythmic repetition somewhat annoying. _How painful is this assignment going to be?_

Sally sat in the hovercraft as they went home, happily planning the design for her new outfit as she mechanically thought the words to the tune she hummed, _it's a small world after all, it's a small world after all, it's a small world after all. It's a small, small world._

**A/N: Thanks to all who are following this story, and to those who continue to encourage and critique. I appreciate it very much!**


	7. Pride and Prejudice

**A/N: **A shout-out to Geralt for inspiring the character of Theron and his Clan. Many thanks to all who continue to faithfully read and to comment on what they read. I do think about your comments and they inspire me to be a better writer.

**Chapter 6: Pride and Prejudice**

_**Our thoughts are unseen hands shaping the people we meet. Whatever we truly think**_ _**them to be, that's what they'll become for us…Richard Cowper**_

The young Hunter stood looking at the stone floor, as his Sire paced in front of him, trying to conceal his boredom. He had heard all this before, too many times before.

The perplexed Elder did not know what to do with this one. He had tried everything, even enlisting the help of an old friend, to try and develop his offspring. So far, it had not paid-off. His recently Clan-marked bloodline had not truly matured, and so had not become the least bit objective about his own behavior, nor taken responsibility for his actions. The Sire racked his brain for what to do with him now, after this latest instructive assignment had been bungled. At least the youngster was not a Badblood - yet. Though reasonably physically talented, he was immature and even somewhat stupid. Perhaps what was needed was for him to face greater danger? Usually the study and accomplishment of Chiva was sufficient to mature anyone, but for this one - more seemed needed.

He had taken great pains with this young Hunter, from birth, through puphood and training – all the way through to his Chiva and beyond. This offspring was the first of his offspring to be born of mixed blood from an ooman female. His success could not be in doubt as the entire future of the Yautja race rested on the way these first hybrids matured and proved themselves able to carry on the blood line. Failure had not been an option when there were only ooman females to seed. But now, by the blessings of Paya, things were going to be different. A Matriarch had been chosen and from her, fully twenty new females were expected to be born. Females as deliberately managed as the hybrid male pups, engineered from birth so that their Yautja traits would be dominant.

With the expectation of Yautja females to breed with again, the entire planet was now not quite as dependent on the success of one mediocre young Hunter. If he did not perform his duty, he could be reasonably disposed of without an uproar or investigation into how his Sire had managed him.

"Go to your quarters and reflect upon what I have told you," the Sire instructed the young Hunter. "I will find another assignment for you that will be sufficiently…challenging." After watching his offspring leave, he contacted several Hunt Brothers, or Hunters they recommended him to, searching for just the right hunt. After perhaps a quarter of a cycle of investigating, he found it. A seasoned group was going out to one of the remote game planets after a particularly challenging and dangerous elite prey. Few Hunters of his offspring's unseasoned age were ever allowed to partake in such a hunt, but the Sire of the Hunt Elder owed him. His offspring would need to act as part of the group and follow the Elder's commands if this hunt were to be successful. With a team of experienced Hunters, his offspring's errors would stand out as plainly as an ooman's nose.

The Hunt Elder was not known to him, but his Sire, who was a half-brother, had claimed that he had an honorable, although somewhat ruthless, reputation, and was possibly on his way to becoming an Arbitrator. Excellent! My offspring will obey this leader, take responsibility and perform admirably…or die. Such should be his fate if he will not better himself, he thought grimly. The idea of his bloodline dying on the surface of some distant game planet was certainly more palatable than having to determine how to dispose of him from polite society himself. His ships and residences needed no more servants.

The young Hunter sat gloomily in his quarters, wondering just what it took to please his Sire. He had gone on several missions and hunts since acquiring his Clan mark and still nothing seemed to go right for him, other than that mission to take the Ancients to the Blue Planet. He and the other crewmembers had received accolades for the rescue of A'daifr and the destruction of Paya's House. Plus, they had brought home a new Matriarch! Why couldn't his sire concentrate on his respected successes, instead of his failures? One learned from failure, and Kylfa felt he had learned much.

He quickly stood in respect as his Sire entered his room. "Kylfa, I have obtained passage on a Hunt for you, a Hunt to one of the game planets. You will leave in five cycles. I have located a file for you to download onto your com, in order for you to study your prey."

"You honor me, my Sire," the Hunter bowed his head respectfully. "I will, once again, prove myself a worthy continuer of your line."

Kylfa reeled backward as his Sire knocked him in the chest with a powerful hand. "Do not disrespect me, pup! You know that I am not pleased with your performance. Every report from every Hunt or mission Elder has contained references to your immaturity, your inability to make good decisions, as well as your stupidity! I will not have you continue my line until you can prove yourself. I have no idea how you achieved your Clan mark, Kylfa. A hard meat must have jumped upon your blade."

The Hunter bristled inside at the reproach and his Sire's insult to his Chiva. He uncharacteristically stood up to his Elder, "The Chiva is all that most require before they can mate. What about the Paya's House mission? All of us were honored by the High Council."

"I received no report from Elder Ulfr due to his illness, I assume. But I am sure that if I had, it would have been similar to the others I have read," the Sire growled. "Watch yourself, my patience and struggle with you has neared its end."

Kylfa wondered at the threat. What would his Sire do to him if after this next mission he still felt his offspring to be unworthy? There were young Hunters with disappointed Sires who suddenly vanished and everyone was wise enough to not ask after them. Sometimes they would be seen later in the teams of aseign who served the great Halls, or ran the bowels of ships. Sometimes, they were never heard from again.

Kylfa knew there was no point in speaking further. Besides, he had a hunt coming up and four cycles to kill until then. He nodded to his Sire and said, "With your permission, I need to begin preparations." His Sire nodded his consent and Kylfa left the dwelling, heading towards a watering hole that was popular with certain Hunters down in the lower status part of the city. He walked along holding himself proudly, one eye out for an approaching trouble, and the other out for any approaching opportunity. Finding neither, he entered the building where one could sit an entire day drinking inexpensive, and fairly tolerable, cheap c'ntlip.

He tended his drink, sitting alone facing the doorway to see if anyone entering was one of his friends. But no one entered. Kylfa sat alone, considering how unfair it all was. He was an honored Hunter; his Clan mark was plain for all to see. He had acquired it fairly, even though the Kainde Amedha was injured, probably from a fall, when he came upon it. It was still dangerous he rationalized. It had barely ambulated on one leg, dragging the other crushed one. How simple it had been to kill it and take his trophy. Throwing the body down a hole that had opened in the floor, he had quickly joined the others in celebrating their success.

He was honorable in his own mind, and certainly strong and brave. He did not see the qualities he lacked and was incapable of being able to assess himself with even a sliver of objectivity and thus did not realize his own handicap. To him, his Sire was being overly critical. He had not even let him go on a guided mating hunt yet, and had him taking a little-known and expensive medication to suppress the need to mate until his Sire thought him worthy.

His thoughts came to the conclusion that he needed to find his own way and not spend the rest of his life trying to prove the unprovable to an unreasonable Sire. He needed a plan, and he slowly began to try and put one together aided by the continued mugs of c'ntlip.

After nearly half the cycle had gone by, another Hunter entered the establishment. By appearance he was a little older than Kylfa, but still in his youth. His Clan mark was one Kylfa had not had much experience with. He studied the newcomer, but did not make eye contact. The watched Hunter obtained his drink and then boldly walked over to where brooding Kylfa sat.

"Greetings, Honorable Hunter. I am called Kash'ta, of the Clan Kaš," the stranger nodded respectfully.

"I am Kylfa of Clan Od'hroer-ir. Join me."

The new Hunter took a seat across from Kylfa and the two began talking. They exchanged stories of their heroic exploits, which were not many due to their youth. Kash'ta was impressed to hear that Kylfa had been part of the crew that had not only destroyed the dishonorable house for Ancients on the Blue Planet, but had also brought Yaut its new Matriarch.

"So you have been in her presence?"

"Sei, many times."

"What is she like?"

Kylfa responded, trying to sound wise for his years, "She is…ooman," which brought a great chortle from his new friend. He lowered his voice to a near whisper, "Somehow she beguiled our mission Elder, as well as his young hybrid brother. I found her…rather unimpressive."

The two went on in conversation. As the c'ntlip continued to flow, Kash'ta learned of Kylfa's unappreciative Sire and the new hunt he had appointed his offspring to attend. After gulping the last of his drink thoughtfully, Kash'ta said, "I do not believe it is your fault that your Sire finds you…not up to his standards."

Kylfa perked up at these words, "You do not? What then do you think is the cause?"

"Is it not obvious? You are hybrid, as am I. We are held to higher standards then those of pure Yautja heritage. It is my observation that having ooman genes is a great handicap on the path of greatness."

In truth, Kylfa had never thought about his mixed genetics. He had never felt any different than the Yautja around him and had certainly never thought himself as being treated differently than anyone else. But this was a rare fruit being offered – an explanation, albeit an excuse, for why circumstances rarely seemed to work out for him. Therefore it must be true, and his mind latched onto the idea immediately. The two talked well into the long shadows of the afternoon and when they parted, Kylfa had not only a justification but also a new friend who promised to introduce him to other Honorable Hunters who were also victims of their birth.

He wandered home full of new ideas and determined to make his own future with or without the blessing of his Sire. The old one was obviously prejudiced against him! Kylfa imagined going where there were others of his kind who would accept him and his accomplishments, who would honor and speak well of him.

His Sire was already in his rooms when Kylfa unlocked the entrance. He made his way to his room as quietly as it was possible for a drunken three-hundred pound male. Falling asleep nearly as soon as his body hit the furs, he dreamt of acceptance and respect.

* * *

The Matriarch was excited, as well as concerned. Sig'dan had contacted her with the news of his impending return, and she had invited him to bring his pup-bearer Melanie. Sally's heart warmed to the thought of being with her beloved Hunter again, and hoped that the Consort would not suddenly decide that he was interested in her. She was lawfully bound to consider the Arbitrator's request for her first and so far, other than that first night, his need was thankfully not there.

Melanie had initially been pitied as Sally judged that what had happened was shameful and wrong, but there was another feeling stirring inside the Matriarch lately - the feeling of jealousy. She couldn't seem to help the pictures that invaded her mind, disturbing her newly found sense of regaining herself. She wondered how much Sig'dan enjoyed the young woman's company. How witty, intelligent and engaging was she? Mel had been upset and worn when Sally had met her, but even then the Matriarch couldn't help but notice the young woman's natural beauty. Unlike the Consort, Sig'dan was an unbound Hunter, and could choose to breed with any female he wanted who would accept him. As she waited for him, Sally's mind became increasingly polluted by her fertile imagination. Her tension was sensed by all around her, including the Consort and she was a little snappish at everyone.

Her Consort was not impressed with her small display. He had been around the true Matriarchs when they existed and one could end up on the other side of the room if an alpha female was in a foul mood. On the other hand, he felt more at home with Sally's newborn assertiveness and ability to command. She was learning quickly. He was surprised and relieved that she had not scented of need to him again without the sedistim, and that she had quickly ordered the creation of his own private apartment right next to hers which gave him greater privacy. He had to admit that a bed was more pleasant than a pile of furs and pillows on the floor.

He had put on a show of balking for the High Council when they had delivered him the news about his new dwelling and asked his input on the design. Secretly, he was delighted to have space and time away from the Matriarch. The ruse of his displeasure was appeased when he was told that the apartments would be connected by a doorway.

Then there was the matter of Sally's new shadow, the translator Theron. The Matriarch had been alone with him in their quarters when the Consort had entered. His mate had looked surprised to see him, and had quickly stood intending to perform an introduction, only to see him bound across the room with jaws wide in threat. The intruding male had stood also, just in time to receive the death grip of the Elder Arbitrator's hand around his throat as he was lifted from the floor and slammed into the wall.

Theron had tried to breathe, but all he received was a bit of the hot musk of the Arbitrator as the widened mandibles threatened to rip into his face, and the unyielding grip choked his throat nearly closed. Even his metal neck protectors did not save him from the hand's crush. The translator eyed his options, he could hang limply, hoping that the brute would come just a bit closer where he might be able to grasp a blade and perform a little separation surgery, or he might be able to work up a nice load of saliva from the sides of his mouth and use his tongue to paste it smartly in one of the big fellow's eyes. Such an insult might drive the behemoth to drop him and at least he could fight.

Just to the side of the deathly gripping arm, Theron saw movement. It was the Matriarch as she ran up to the Arbitrator and delivered a solid smack into his exposed ribcage with a small stone statue. Surprised and wondering what pebble had been thrown at him, Aldúlfr turned his head to view his mate who was yelling, very authoritatively he noted, "H'ko, Ald-ulfr, H'ko!"

_C'jit, she is giving me an obvious command. I presume she doesn't want me to snap his_ _scrawny neck or remove his ability to breathe_. A disappointed Aldúlfr slowly loosened his stranglehold on Theron and backed away from him. The translator felt that he hung there for a moment, his cervical spine embedded into the wall. Then he slid down to the floor, landing on his feet, and shook his head. The gray, silver-ringed locks sprayed out as he worked the kink out of his neck and took a breath.

"If you can speak, Theron, introduce yourself to my Consort as your translator," Sally ordered.

Theron coughed a bit and then spoke to Aldúlfr, "I am Theron of Clan Dor'an. I have been summoned by the Matriarch as her translator."

"I see your Clan mark. Let the bruise around your neck and the imprints of my fingers in your paltry collar serve to remind you that I am the Matriarch's chosen Consort. I tolerate neither insult nor even the appearance of ill will towards her."

Theron bowed to the Consort and then to the Matriarch. "I am dutifully in her service, Honorable Consort, and I will defend her also if needed."

Aldúlfr glanced at the sinewy body of Theron and raised his upper mandibles in the equivalent of a smirk. "See to your duty then, Dor'an, and remember that any defense you make for her will be against an enemy that has first gone through me." He finished his statement with a low growl. Then turned to the Matriarch with a bow of respect – she had not only ordered him, she had bravely struck him! True, it was the blow of a small pup, but she had done it bravely nonetheless and deserved his consideration for standing up to him.

It had been a dramatic introduction. Theron was still nursing his bruises and Aldúlfr was still evaluating the Matriarch's new translator. He seemed honorable enough as he did not shirk in fear when attacked and was certainly from a highly respected Clan. After a time he decided that it was helpful to have someone there to assist them in their communication, although nothing of a personal nature had been discussed as only practical matters had been channeled through the translator.

Via Theron, Sally had sort to smooth out the unpleasantness by seeking her Consort's advice on the schooling of the female pups, and the Arbitrator had thoughtfully given it to her. "They must be mentally and physically strong. They need to think logically and follow our traditions of honor. They will defend themselves against unruly males, and spar honorably with their own sex – in case of dispute over a male or anything else. They must understand the proper way to evaluate a potential mate so that their pup will be assured of the best Sire possible."

"That is all good advice, Aldúlfr. I agree that they must understand Yautja traditions and how to defend themselves, as well as how to choose the best mate. Should they also know how to properly rear their own young?"

"Sei, teaching pup upbringing is necessary, Honorable Matriarch."

"Aldúlfr, I would greatly prefer that when we are in private, even though the translator is here, that you would call me simply by my name, Sally."

"Sei, Sal'lee."

"Then what else should be taught? I know they need a good understanding of your religion and culture, as well as history. I would like to learn more of your history myself. Your son, Ulfr, conducted me through your great Hall of Antiquities and I learned much there, but I would imagine there is more."

"There is more. If I may access your console, I will tag titles in our library that you may read via your translator." He unexpectedly appreciated that she wanted to understand more about his race.

"I thank you, Aldúlfr," she replied.

"Sal'lee, may I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"Why do you thank me? I honor all your requests from duty."

Her eyebrows lifted at his question. "In my world, it is considered only polite to thank someone for their efforts. It is not a weakness. In fact, not saying 'thank you' is considered a weakness."

The Arbitrator considered for a moment, "I understand, but you are on Yaut now. Many will see only weakness."

Sally caught herself before she thanked him for his advice. "Yes, this is Yaut. I wish to grow in understanding of how a Matriarch behaves. You will continue to advise me on this matter."

The Arbitrator nodded to her in agreement, good, another lesson learned. With my advice, if her ability to learn stays this strong -I will keep her alive as my duty commands me.

"You have not answered my other question," she calmly stated, staring at him.

"You have listed much that the pups need to be taught. I will consider further and tell you if there is more."

The room com signaled, and Theron answered it, turning to Sally he informed her, "Sig'dan wishes to inform you that he has returned, Matriarch." Her heart jumped when she heard the news and she turned to her Consort.

"We will meet to converse about this again, you are dismissed." She prayed under her breath that he would leave. On the contrary, the Arbitrator felt challenged to assert his rights. He could tell that she was anxious to meet with Sig'dan. If she went to him right away, his offspring might wonder about his Sire's claim upon her. This would be a good time to make a show of his privileges and her bond to him, and he would make an impression regarding just what his position entailed on the translator.

"Sal'lee, I require you in my quarters." As he said this, he mustered up old memories of the ghosts of Yautja females who had teased him with their scent as their talons ran in luscious threat over his hide. The translator hesitantly spoke the Consort's words to the Matriarch as his own scent organ was assaulted by a quantity of potent Hunter musk. It stirred his native aggression and he had to fight for control of his own musk. While the Matriarch he served was not attractive, she was female and he was a potent prime male with a strong need to compete to breed. However, he might as well fall on his own blade as challenge the Consort.

Sally's high spirits grounded as she realized she would not be spending the night with Sig'dan. With luck, she might have some time to see him and inform him of the Consort's request for her this evening.

"Join me now, Sal'lee," the Arbitrator gave his low and gentle, but unmistakable order. The translator maintained his professional composure during translation while scenting the Matriarch's dismay and wondered, did the Matriarch prefer Sig'dan to the Consort?

"Leave us, Theron," Sally followed her translator to the door and set the lock after it was shut. She then contacted Myn'dill via the com to order a large dose of sedistim delivered immediately to the Consort's quarters as her last command of the day, and then followed him through the never-before-used door that connected their quarters.

Once inside Aldúlfr beckoned Sally to follow him to the bath with a wave of his huge hand. She fell in behind him and soon found herself sitting in the relaxing warmth of his oversized soak. Such a large Hunter needed an ample bath. She sat near him, trying to relax. He just sat, looking blissfully serene in the warm water until the sedistim was delivered. He then took a small cup of dosed Naxa juice and offered it to her as he steeled himself for what was his to endure in order to save face and preserve the illusion that he was rutting her. She would be well satisfied once again by his powerful tongue. He quickly found his plan going awry as the sedistim began to work on her and she aggressively climbed up onto his lap facing him.

With her self-confidence renewed, this was not the Matriarch he had previously pleasured. She balanced her forelegs and knees on his wide thighs as she sought the tenderness of his neck. He had not had the delight of having this sensitive area teased in many cycles, not since he had mated with his own kind. Sally had no mandibles, nor fangs, but she did have lips, tongue and blunt teeth and attacked him in earnest as her libido began to control her. She pulled his soft sensitive neck flesh into her mouth and tongued over the smoothly scaled surface, then took the skin between the flat edges of her front teeth and tantalizingly rolled it over her incisors with her tongue. Aldúlfr groaned and shivered in pleasure. He would give anything if he could somehow satisfy his quivering need right now, but his member remained asleep, oblivious to the lure of feminine musk or the mouth teasing his neck right now. This needed to stop if he was to keep any grip on sanity.

He began to run his hands down Sally's body, curving them over her rounded hips and as she responded by returning his hand pressure with her entire body, he scooped her up and placed her on the pool edge with her forelegs still hanging over the side. Bending over her, he began running his tongue over her breasts and down the center of her stomach to the small patch of hair. She gasped, feeling the heat, pressure and texture of his tongue again. Then he knelt at the edge of pool, hooking her knees over his shoulders and burying his face in the place that emitted her frustratingly encouraging aroma. Using his great hands on her hips, he again immobilized her so that movement would not injure her against his tusks and teeth.

Unknown to the Arbitrator, Sally had been in touch with Myn'dill sometime earlier and had ordered him to decrease the potency of her dosage of the sedistim. She was determined to remain conscious during her intimate session with her Consort. It was enough of the drug to relax and arouse her of course, and she moaned intensely as the Arbitrator brought her to climax. After the spasms of pleasure wound down, she tensed her strong abdominal muscles, curling her upper body up off the floor as she reached to grasp the sides of her pleasure-givers head, getting instead fistfuls of his snowy locks.

He felt her stomach tense as her upper body came up off the floor. He figured that her fit of passion might be actually trying to raise her body up. His thinking stopped cold when he felt his lock roots pulled sharply on both sides of his head. What is she doing? He raised his face up and found her eyes looking directly into his, and heard her bark, "Consort! Let go!" He immediately took his hands from her and then pulled away, her hands sliding through his locks as he left. What does she want? Did she not enjoy that?

Sally got back into the water and pulled herself up against his hard body. Wrapping her legs around his middle, she ground herself against him and found his body unaroused. She tipped her head back to look at him and found his gray eyes coldly looking down at her, his mandibles half-spread and a look of pure anger on his face that stopped her cold. She unclasped his waist and lowered her legs to stand. Boldly, she reached for him and stroked the limp thickness with her hand as she looked him straight in the eye and softly demanded, "Why?"

He scented no fear from her, or what he would have catalogued as disgust with his lack of performance. She was quietly, calmly and assertively questioning him, and then waiting for an answer. He put his large hand over hers and gently pulled it from his organ as he searched for the right words in her language. "Not," he rumbled, "Can…not." He looked away from her and studied the pool surface. He was uncomfortable with such intimacy, and was considering what he would do now that she was learning his secret.

A simple grasp and twist would quickly end any possibility of her sharing his inability with anyone. But the consequences of killing the Matriarch, even if she was only ooman, would have been severe. Facing the cruelty of what his fellow Arbitrators could do to him and more importantly, the fact that his name would be erased from all records was too high a price to pay.

"Why…can not?" she asked. He ran a finger down his groin scar, and looked at her smooth face, trying to see if she comprehended.

"You can not because of that?" she pointed to the scar and he nodded the affirmative back at her. Nearly speechless in surprise and sympathy, she quickly tried to stuff her emotions down. The last thing this male would want was sympathy from what he probably still considered lowly prey. Two words finally worked their way out of her mouth, "Well…shit!"

"Sei, c'jit!" he agreed with her. Then he spread his pronounced mandibles widely and gave forth a supremely loud roar that echoed in the bath chamber and hurt Sally's ears. She cringed, but then stood calmly as his frustration aired itself. After the chamber quit vibrating, she motioned for him to come down to her, and as he bent low she placed a hand on one side of his grizzled face and held a finger from the other hand upright in front of her lips. After taking it away, she said, "No tell, Honorable Consort. Sally no tell anyone. On my honor."

Then she backed away and Aldúlfr stood, hiding his surprise at her promise and regaining his proud bearing. Giving her a minimal nod of appreciation, he left, needing to go to the kehrite and destroy something.

Sally soaked in the pool until he left, pondering her new knowledge. She vowed to herself to never disclose his secret to anyone, not Myn'dill, not Sig'dan, not even the ghost of Ulfr. She bathed her body, and then went to her room to sleep. She would rejoin Sig'dan tomorrow.

While Sally was discovering the source of her Consort's odd sexual behavior, Melanie stepped timidly off the ship and entered the Yaut spaceport trying to hide behind the bulk of Sig'dan. She was nervous about meeting others of his kind and sought to blend in with his shadow.

"Do not fear, Mel-an-nee," he said kindly. "I will take you to the Bearers' quarters and see that you are comfortable. There are other oomans there."

"Thanks, Sig-dan," she replied, remembering that some of the women had chosen to stay with the Yautja when she had left the Clanship, and supposed that some had wanted to stay here also, or perhaps had been brought back for not caring for themselves.

She looked so frightened that he offered her his arm as Ulfr had done for Sally. She looked at him, unsure that she was reading the offer correctly, but then clung to it, keeping herself steadied as they walked to the Bearers' Quarters. Passing the formidable guard there, Mel was impressed with the lushness and beauty of the place – stone, soft fabrics and fur, fountains, plants, and beautiful statues of strange but attractive creatures. Sig'dan led her to a suite of rooms, "This is where you will live while you are with us. I hope that you will be comfortable here."

Comfortable? Mel thought, eyeing the luxurious rooms. This was more opulence that she had ever seen in her life. "This is…amazing. Thank you."

"You are welcome. I wish to come and see how you are progressing from time to time, if you will allow it."

"Yes, Sig-dan, I will. Thank you again for coming to escort me," Mel stated with feeling, seeing him as though for the first time.

"It was my honor, and my pleasure." He bowed respectfully to her. "I will leave now and return again in a few cycles, once you have settled."

He hurried to his rooms, anxious to contact Sally and find out how things were fairing between her and the Consort. Perhaps they could even meet. He wondered how long it would be until he could have her to himself for even a night again.

Finally in his quarters, a disappointed Sig'dan had no answer to his call to the Matriarch's com. She was either not in her rooms, or not answering. He wondered to himself how many times his Sire had mated with her and how much she had enjoyed it. His clenched mandibles told of his tension and betrayed his thoughts.

Finally, he caught himself, _this is not honorable thinking._ _Sally has a powerful Consort who protects her and abides by her command_. _Is this not in her best interest? I surely_ _could not defend her yet. I must let this go…she has every right to choose any Hunter to be her rut interest_. Suddenly, his thoughts temporarily lightened, _I have every right_ _to breed any female I desire…except that she must want me also. I will not repeat_ _what I did to Mel-an-ee to any other female, ever! But I am not bound like the Consort, I_am free to mate with others…if the opportunity presents itself.

With that thought his overwhelming desire for Sally reared once more and he tried to contact her again – to no avail. She was busy and some male, who introduced himself as her translator, had answered the com! What translator? He was able to translate anything she needed, why had she summoned someone else? Frustrated, he went to the nearby kehrite, the finest in the city, to find something to hit.

Aldúlfr was punishing the training bag as though it had spoken some profound offense to him. The soft leather bag, filled with sand, was taking a brutal penalty from his hands and feet as it tugged on its tether with each mighty blow. As he fought, the Elder Arbitrator was bathing the air around him with the deep musk of exertion and aggression. The scent traveled on the currents out into the arena and made its way onto the street where an approaching Sig'dan was warned off from that part of the building.

He made his way to the other side of the structure and entered, making his way to one of the three-sided practice spaces. Soon he too was engaged in trying to flay the hide off a hanging leather training bag with his bare hands and feet. The sand-packed leather felt satisfying to some place deep in his soul as he struck it repeatedly with all his might. Stepping back a few paces from his swinging victim, he ran at it and plowed soundly into its side with both feet, tearing it from the ceiling. He landed in a sliding heap as the bag was sent flying across the small space and smacked into the wall.

The Arbitrator had finished taking out his frustration on bag and then turned his still unsatisfied aggression on the structure of training room, punching and kicking holes in the walls and ripping down exposed beams with his bare hands. He stood heaving for breath as the fervor passed, then calmly started for the kehrite manager in order to pay for the utter destruction of the place. He was walking by a series of smaller rooms when he paused to watch a fighting Sig'dan executing his feet-first flight towards his bag. It was a killing blow, critically watched by the Sire, who noticed the style of Ulfr in the hybrid's movement – apparently his eldest had spent some time teaching this one. It was a soundly placed hit, not elegant but highly effective. He appreciated the single-mindedness of the blow and noticed that his offspring had been working from his center. A brief mandible spread of pride came across his face.

Sig'dan followed the bag into the wall punching a hole in it with his feet. He began chuckling to himself when he heard the amused clicking of another and looked over to see his Sire who from his sweat slicked body had obviously been training also. The Hunter got to his feet and gave a respectful nod to his originator.

"Well done," Aldúlfr gave short praise, astounding his offspring. "Hitting is good, it purges the soul." The Elder Yautja began to walk away, then nearly stopped in realization that it was possible his bloodline had been engaged in killing a leather bag for the same reason he had. As he went on, he threw Sig'dan a bone over his shoulder, "I will be engaged in business all next cycle."

Sig'dan's brow lifted in surprise and he stared at the broad back of the departing Arbitrator. Unless he was mistaken, his Sire had just given him notice of a time that he could engage Sally! He carefully played the scenario over in his mind – no, there was no mistake. He had been deliberately told that the Consort would be busy tomorrow – the entire cycle. The Matriarch's beloved cheerfully headed towards the shower and then to put in a call to Sally – in private.

Sig'dan was annoyed. Sally's pauk-de translator had answered her com yet again! How much time was he spending in her quarters? He had not met her assistant yet, he'd only spoken to him when he answered Sig'dan's first call. He had politely introduced himself as her translator, and delivered her the message. Sig'dan had heard his perfect English over the com before it was disconnected. C'jit! Why does she need someone around to translate when I can do a perfectly good job of it for her? But he had been out hunting, he realized, actually his hunt had turned into an escort job as he brought Melanie back to Yaut.

_When I contact you on the com, I want to speak with YOU Sally, not your pauk-de_ _translator. We need to talk about this_. The proud young Hunter's instinctive need to claim his mate from all others was making Sig'dan itch to give the translator a shoulder shove when they met. He nicked at his anger, thinking about it all the way to her quarters. After giving Yin and Yang a nod, he signaled his presence to her and entered.

Theron had been translating some historical writings for the Matriarch that Myn'dill had let her borrow. They were so ancient they were not on the computer. He heard the door com signal and was expecting to walk over to answer it when some unexpectedly rude Hunter simply walked inside. The translator was immediately alarmed that someone had managed to get past the door guards! In a single motion he was on his feet and into a fighting stance as he pulled a very wicked looking concealed short blade from his waist.

Sally was on her feet the instant Theron went into action. She would have admired his extreme grace except for the fact that he was about to attack Sig'dan. "NO!" she commanded with all the authority she could muster. "He is not a threat, he is Sig'dan!"

As she was concentrating on getting her translator to stand-down, Sig'dan had reacted in a flash to the stance and drawn weapon of Theron by striding up to him and pulling a blade of his own, then he crouched, with mandibles spread like arms of threat from his face. To Sally's dismay, the two began to circle each other, growling in low deadly menace.

The horrified Matriarch could think of only one thing to do, and bravely stepped into the middle of their circle. Placing her arms out and hands up, she yelled, "H'ko!" as loudly as she could. "Both of you stop this foolishness right now, God damn it!"

They kept circling, ignoring the tiny Matriarch who was screaming something at them. It was simple to overlook her diminutive height as Sig'dan and Theron orbited Sally, each looking for weakness in the other and opportunity to attack.

Sally had never heard such horrible noises come from Sig'dan, or Theron for that matter. Feeling as futile as a mouse trying to stop a tomcat fight, she pressed her wrist com and heard the voice of Yin, "Sie?"

"Help!" she screamed into her wrist, just as her front door crashed open and Yin and Yank heroically tanked into the apartment scattering furniture and anything else in their path. They stopped short for a moment seeing the challenging Hunters and then swooped in to pull the Matriarch to safety, somehow managing to slip between the snarling Hunters without disturbing them.

"No! No!" Sally screamed as the twin bulls extracted her from the fight, sat her down on a chair and then turned to watch the battle.

Yin looked at Yang, asking, "What does she want?" Yang simply shrugged his shoulders and they both concentrated on the circling, roaring Yautja in front of them. With the Matriarch between them and assured of her safety, they could enjoy this unexpected entertainment.

Sally desperately looked around the room for something, anything to maybe throw at them or smack one of them with, like she had hit the Consort with the statue when he attacked Theron. Nothing obvious presented itself. Then, grasped with an idea, she pressed her com button again, calling Myn'dill.

"Sei?" his familiar voice registered, "May help you, Honorable Matriarch?"

"Yes, yes! Sig-dan and Theron are fighting! Help!"

"Honorable Matriarch, why fight?"

"I'm not sure, but I don't want Sig'dan hurt or killed!"

"On way, no fear." He closed the com.

Sally was slightly relieved. At least if Sig'dan was stabbed there would be immediate medical help available. And she really didn't want her translator injured either. Now, what the hell could they be fighting over?

The highly trained and more experienced Theron saw an opening and moved in. He was extraordinarily fast. Sig'dan never knew what hit him as he ended up unconscious, on the floor, with no obvious injury.

Theron sheathed his blade and went to bow before the Matriarch. "I apologize, Honorable Matriarch. Punish me as you will."

Sally had to force herself not to rush over to Sig'dan. "Is he dead, Theron?"

"No, Honorable Matriarch. I only gave him a small blow."

"Why did you attack him?" Sally was relieved to hear that her Hunter was alive. Just then Myn'dill entered the room, and immediately went to check on Sig'dan.

"I thought he was here to attack you, Honorable Matriarch."

"But I ordered you to stop, Theron!"

"Yes, you did, but it was too late. He had already challenged me and we had engaged."

Sally didn't really understand, but decided to talk with Sig'dan about it later rather than reveal any more of her ignorance to Theron. "I will deal with you momentarily," she told him, and then walked over to where the Healer was scanning Sig'dan.

"Is he alright?"

"Sei, good." The Healer bent to administer a needle full of something and Sig'dan immediately came to consciousness. He was a little wobbly getting to his feet, and ignored Sally – to her dismay.

Walking over to Theron, he bowed his head to him and rumbled something in Yautja. Theron rumbled and then nodded back. Sally had just about had all her nerves could take and walked over to the two of them. She stared at first Sig'dan and then Theron until both looked at the floor.

"Sig'dan – go to my room. I will be there shortly. Theron – you are dismissed for the rest of the cycle. I will contact you when I need you to return. While you are away I will contemplate your punishment."

Theron bowed to her and left, relieved to be getting the afternoon off and time away from the angry Matriarch. He was puzzled as to why she wanted to spend time with such a young Hunter who could barely hold his own in a fight, who of course had not been trained as the males of the Dor'an Clan were. They were exceptional fighters, and Theron was proudly in the upper ranks of them. It had been refreshing to fight even such a small fight, instead of speaking ooman all day. If it had not been for the Matriarch's order, he would have injured the youngster, just to teach him a lesson. Instead, he heeded her command by merely knocking the pup out. Perhaps the hot-headed Hunter would think thrice about challenging him again.

Sally left the public area of her apartment and headed for her bedroom after complementing the Healer on his quick response and for seeing to Sig'dan. _I've about_ _had enough of the vast amounts of testosterone, or whatever they have, around here. But_ _I've learned a lesson - never invite a male that your mates don't know about into your_ _quarters. I should have contacted both Sig'dan and my Consort about Theron and_ _arranged an introduction. Jesus, I thought Sig'dan was going to be killed! I have never_ _seen anyone, including Ald-ulfr, move as fast as Theron did. He_ _was…amazing…magnificent. I still can't get over how different looking he is, almost_ _more human with his smoothness and less pronounced features...his gray eyes. Anyway, these guys need to go on a hunt together or something…I wonder if they could somehow_ _all become bonded together in a Hunt Bonding ceremony like Ulfr did for me? I shall_ _begin to look into that tomorrow._


	8. Know Thyself

**A/N: Thanks to all who are following this story and also to those who make the effort to review the chapters. Your encouragement is uplifting!**

**Chapter 7: Know Thyself**

"_**Nothing is predestined. The obstacles of your past can become the gateways that lead to**_ _**new beginnings." – Ralph Blum**_

Theron was dismissed from attending Sally for the afternoon. The penalty for disobeying an order not to fight Sig'dan had been doled out to him by a calmly-spoken, but stern, Matriarch, and he had immediately departed to see that it was done. She had devised an interesting 'punishment' for him by requiring that he go to the youngling's training classes and begin to instruct them in his method of fighting. He had thought to tell her that it would do the pups little good, but chose to sequester that information as he debated internally if this was really some sort of backhanded complement to his skills. Fine! He would show them a few moves and watch their too soft bodies try to accomplish what had taken his entire puphood and youth to realize. _You cannot make a lethal fighter of efficient elegance out of such spongy, pampered flesh, _he thought to himself, confidently advancing on the training kehrite.

Inside the arena he went over to a sideline bench to wait for his turn to work with the students. While he waited, idly half-listening to the trainer lecturing about honor, Theron's thoughts drifted to the floating scraps of memories of his own education…

The chilling grip of night arose from the solid ground, probing into his flesh and claiming the right to distress his body. This first night of learning to be a warrior was not a restful one. The hardness of Yaut's bare soil did nothing to lull him to sleep, nor did its coldness offer his body any ease. He lay awake on the bare ground out in the open with only a scant loincloth of thin poor fabric covering his body, determined not to advertise his discomfort by tossing and turning.

His Bearer and younger siblings had been left at their dwelling earlier that morning, without a backward glance, as he had been marched with the other pups of young age far from the city to the training site that would be his home for many, many years – assuming he lived. As he left his home, he heard the sound of his Bearer's voice growl after him, "Theron! Return to this dwelling a warrior, or not at all." He almost stopped at her command, but a rough hand pushed him onward. He would not see her or his female siblings again until he reached Cetanu's Hall. They were stricken within a long cycle by the disease of the Bearers that eventually would rob all civilization of all their females.

All the tramping pups quickly learned that the warriors that oversaw them did not coddle. Their current job was to get the younglings to the training facility. Once there they would instill the basics of survival, the Hunt and warrior training in hand-to-hand combat as well as weaponry. To those who passed this training the honor of learning strategy and higher techniques of both defense and attack would be given. Any pup not able to pass these basic lessons was weeded out of the group – permanently. He could die from exposure, from starvation, or be killed by a fellow student, or trainer.

As each young Yautja knew, the only rank in Dor'an society available to a male was to be a hunter/warrior who fought, and who eventually might be honored enough to defend the Clan, eventually proving himself worth enough to train pups and to breed. This was partly because there was no place in their Clan for any who failed in this training as females held all other roles including early pup-rearing, trades, agriculture and politics. Males who became too old to function efficiently as Warriors did not retire – they went on Last Hunt. It was also true that unlike other Clans, the Dur'an populace did not contain servants or slaves. All members did their own labor and traded for whatever else they might need. Manual labor was an honorable function and kept the body strong. Even pups began to work at a very young age in cleaning their quarters, preparing food or whatever they were deemed capable of.

The females were also put through rigorous physical training and expected to pass Chiva, but their training was not as harsh or as lengthy as the males. Still, fitness and ability was required for a female to earn her status as a Bearer. Females who did not pass the tests might still earn a living making weaponry or cloth, but would never bear pups.

With the unbalanced training between males and females, and the penalty for male failure being death, the number of breeding Dur'an females had been historically greater than the number of males. This was usually not a problem as one male was capable of servicing many females and the Yautja did not take permanent mates. If a Dor'an warrior was truly desirable, and the females impatient, they would spar for him with the winner taking him first and the loser either waiting her turn or taking another.

Now that the Yautja females were all dead, most of the Dor'an Clan had decided that breeding prey was a depth to which they would not fall. A few claimed ooman women, but were shunned by the majority and had to flee in their transports for fear that they, their females and pups would be destroyed. All in all, Clan Dor'an had become a tense and frustrated society. Their leaders met often, arguing what the best course of action would be and how to continue their lines. Desperate to preserve their way of life, new experiments in maintaining traditional female roles with the males who failed their warrior training arose.

Considering themselves racially purer than other Clans, the Dor'an had pulled away from the rest of the planet and formed another city on Yaut. From there they launched transports to service their many Clanships. They had membership on the High Council, but for most Hunters, the Council High Elders were the only Dor'ans they might hope to see, unless one happened to run into them servicing their ship at a deep space station or on a Hunt. If the Dor'an were hunting an area that you intended to hunt, logic prevailed over honor as your ship quickly departed the already claimed area. Most other Clans now considered them set in their ways, fixtures of long ago who still clung to their ancient ways and were more for themselves than the whole of Yaut.

Young Theron was determined to learn, survive and surpass his fellows. He put the cold ground and the gnawing hunger to the back of his mind, and practiced relaxing parts of his body trying to induce sleep, knowing that those who lacked rest eventually became vulnerable. As he laid there focusing on easing tension in his feet and then working up his entire body, he heard the faint whimper of a cold pup in the darkness. Cracking open an eye he saw the movement of large warriors around the sleeping group. Then another whimper weakly eked into the night air followed by the thump of a large fist hitting a small target which squealed in the dark. The rest of the night was silent as the pup gently rubbed his bruised ribs, now too nervous and cold to seek sleep.

Theron almost involuntarily shivered with cold at the vivid memory, but caught himself. The class was still attentive to the boring, droning trainer who recited a historic tale to further illustrate his lesson of the cycle. The Dor'an warrior shifted on the hard bench and let his mind wander again back to his youth…

He was hungry. The first part of the training was successfully ingrained in him and he had lived in spite of the harsh conditions and the painful lack of food. An evening meal was served to the students as their only nourishment for the day. The thin broth of ground nuts and fruit was only partially nourishing with not enough calories to sustain them when undergoing such rigorous training.

Every day before classes, he and the others ran. They ran the entire way around their city, Jan-en'a, on a rough dirt path, supervised and egged on by the heavy footfalls of guards who breathed lightly along side them. It was in the cool of the morning when they began each cycle, but it was in the heat of the height of the sun's zenith when they finally completed the circuit and were allowed to drink their fill of the first water of the day. No more would come until nightfall.

Theron looked at his body which had shed any water weight it carried and had consumed its stores of survival fat several cycles ago. He was leaner than he had ever been, but knew that if his muscles were to grow and he was to accomplish the training that lay ahead, he needed more food to survive.

He waited that night until all the others were asleep, and the warrior guards were quietly at their posts. Yaut's two small moons were not yet visible, making perfect blackness for stealing away from the sleeping area. Quietly, he rolled over onto his belly and scanned the camp. No one appeared to have spotted him. He was surrounded by apparently still slumbering forms. The guards, who were posted in twos around the perimeter of the sleepers, seemed to be more interested in speaking to each other than watching the students. Slowly he got to his feet, crouching low, alertly ready to duck beside a sleeping form to camouflage his heat. He kept his breathing steady and even - as though he were still asleep, lest the hearing of one of the warriors catch his exertion. He listened and scented the still warm night air for a time, trying to determine if any of the guards had spotted him. Detecting nothing alarming, he moved as in slow-motion out of the camp, slipping between the guards and out into the taller growth that would assist in hiding him. He headed back to civilization where he could find food.

He kept his pace to a walk, silent footfalls not betraying his position as he swerved through the clusters of plants. The training facility was located out of eye-sight of the city, hidden away in a wide ravine left from when water had formed small rivers on the surface of the land. He had followed the ancient dry riverbed away from camp knowing it led in the general direction of the metropolis. As the riverbed widened and the steep sides of the ravine gentled into a flatter landscape, he turned out of the prehistoric waterway, climbed the mild rise and found himself on a sparsely vegetated plain. Jutting his chin forward he tasted the breeze with an open mouth and soon found the odor of civilization as a trail to follow. Huffing, he dared break into a jog the rest of the way on the hard packed surface his stomach only occasionally betraying his condition with a low burbling complaint. e HTrusting his ability to figure the proper direction, he was soon rewarded as a few still-lit windows beckoned to him when the hilltop city came into view.

He changed his trajectory to the small gap in the stone walls that he and many other pups knew about. Too small for an adult to squeeze through, it had been the pathway for mischievous pups to sneak out of the city into the unguarded wilderness for an adventure. It now served as a lifesaving aperture to the sustenance that would allow him to succeed and become a warrior.

Once through the wall, he headed for the open market where the vendors would be sleeping near their laden carts. Silent as a thought, he crept into the square and scented the area where the flesh vendors' carts slept as soundly as their mistresses. No vendor heard or scented him as his body cut through the darkness like a knife, leaping from cart to cart above the ground. In the morning the females would find their stores of preserved meat broken into and not even a footprint in the dust to identify the thief.

But they knew. Stories of the hardships that their sons were forced to endure had made their way through the circles of females over time and the Bearers among them secretly hoped it was _their_ offspring who was pilfering life-giving food. In fact, some of them simply pretended to be asleep and watched for the thin students to appear as they learned the art of stealth, only jumping up to confront one who was especially clumsy or loud. Usually a sound smack with an open hand would send the pup running off to give a better try another time. The other females who were also not really asleep would give chitters of laughter when the sound of a large hand hitting bare pup flesh rang through the market. They would assist in the teaching of their pups whether the warriors knew it or not!

A satiated Theron made his way back into the students' quarters as carefully and quietly as he had left. Creeping back to his place where he slept very soundly for the rest of the night. Early in the morning he was awakened by the growls of the warrior guards. They roughly snatched up one of the pups and as he flew through the air shreds of dried meat fell from his clenched hands and chummed nearby olfactory nerves with their scent. Theron was shocked to learn he had not foraged alone last night! The grabbed pup was immediately dragged by his locks to a nearby stone pillar, stood upright and then bound to the rock with his back to the audience. A stern warrior came at him with a lash and the dour warning – "do not make a sound if you value your life."

The warrior cracked the air with his whip, letting the trussed pup know what was to happen. Then he snapped out the first skin-rendering flick and the punished gasped for breath, tightening every muscle in his body as his flesh screamed in pain. The youngling took five lashes which left deep marks in his back with never a sound. With each strike, he clenched his tusks and never made even a whisper of pain as his body tightened and he held his breath each time the leather touched him. Green pools formed on the ground below, filling from the steady drip of the newly made ravines.

When the whipping was finished, the sinner was cut down and led to the Healers who would keep infection at bay. He would carry his scars for life to remind him of this lesson. The lead trainer turned to the pups and asked, "Do you know why he was punished?"

Silence was his answer, each pup too afraid of what would happen if he gave the wrong reply.

"There is no punishment for an incorrect answer, there will be group punishment if no one figures this lesson out!" the trainer barked.

A pup across the group from Theron bowed his head, thereby requesting to speak. The trainer rumbled, "You! What is your answer?"

"He was punished for stealing."

"Wrong answer!" the warrior boomed. "Who has the correct answer?"

The pup standing next to Theron inclined his head and, once recognized, boldly replied, "He was punished for sneaking out of our sleeping grounds."

"No!" growled the trainer, "My tusks click with eagerness to punish you all into thinking! What was the reason?" he bellowed.

Theron had been assessing and could come up with only one other plausible answer, so he slowly bowed his head.

"Ah, another brave thinker! What is your answer?"

"He was caught, Honorable Warrior."

"You reasoned this out, youngling? Explain yourself to this group!"

Theron stood with quiet dignity and replied, "He stole meat, but was not punished for that. He was punished because he was caught with the evidence of his crime. If he had not had the scraps on him, he would not have been punished."

"I believe we have a wise one in the group, fellow Warriors!" They all chortled and clicked and Theron fought embarrassment. Had he been wrong?

"You are correct young fighter, and you have saved this group from doing two laps of the city today. Mark my words young pups, the crime is NOT that he stole food – he was hungry. How do you think any of you are going to survive my training without stealing some food? But, if you are caught – ka! You will be punished. This will instill both bravery and stealth into your heart and bones. Those who are not brave enough to try – you will die! Those of you who try and are caught – you see what will happen."

With his speech finished he gave young Theron a pat on the head, making the youngling giddy with delight. He had proven himself to the lead trainer! This time anyway…

Theron was brought back to the present by the completion of the Hunter's speech and the assembly of the unblooded in the center of the school arena. They were trying not to stare at him. They had studied about the different Clans but had never laid eyes on or scented a Dor'an member before. He looked so different! Some would chitter later that he was reminiscent of their long-gone females with his slight mandibles, but not as muscular or tall. Some would wonder - if the Dor'an were too proud to mate with oomans, who or what did they mate?

Theron gracefully got to his feet and proudly walked over to the nearest half-grown pup and gave him a moderate shoulder shove – the youngling hit the ground. Theron laughed his clicking laugh and went to the next one who swayed but stood his ground. The lesson was on and many sore younglings with more than bruised egos would be seeking the healer's soothing salves later this cycle.

* * *

Sally sat alone in her quarters, intensely studying the translated text on the screen in front of her. She had looked up some information on Theron's Clan, and had found that his ancestral group also had a version of the bathe-together-naked ceremony as an act of confidence and bonding like she had participated in on Ulfr's ship. The ceremony obligated them to each other as Hunt Brothers, ensuring that they would act as a trusting team.

From her reading, she found that even as Matriarch she did not have the right to call anyone to join her in a binding ritual, however her Consort did. Her mind wandered about where to find a large very private bath, perhaps he would know where that could be found. _And just where is Aldulfr?_ She contacted Sig'dan and found he was en route to a training session with his Sire. "Perfect! I wish to speak with both of you when you are finished, please come to my quarters later."

Sally kept studying about the Dor'an Clan and found their history fascinating. They were the founding Clan of the Yautja from which all other Clans had sprung over time. _So had_ _all Hunters looked like Theron at one time?_ She was reassured that he was a representative specimen as she looked at holograms of other Dor'an Hunters. All of them were leaner and smoother then any other Yautja she had seen. Did they still appear the same as they had when the other Clans were founded, or had they continued to evolve beyond brutish "cave-Yautja" more than their brothers?

She also watched several recordings of the Dor'an at spar. That their challenges differed from the few she had witnessed was an understatement. The shoulder shove was the same, the crouching, circling, mandibles fully expressed, and threatening growls were the same. However, once the action began the similarity ended. The two Hunters became a whirling graceful dance, nearly faster than the eye could follow as they hurled themselves at each other in the jehdin-jehdin, or hand-to-hand, contest. The ending was different also, at least in the several 'spars' she watched. They were all to the death. The victor lived; the loser would no longer spread his inferior genes through the race. It was very harsh to human eyes. Certainly all their spars could not end that way! There must be some allowance for the young to be trained, her logic reasoned.

And if they did not mate with human women, how did they plan for their continuation? That point truly puzzled her as she knew, firsthand, of the Hunters' strong instincts to procreate. How were the Dor'an going to propagate themselves?

As the Matriarch studied their deadly graceful forms she became more and more convinced that a connection needed to be forged between Theron, her Consort, her lover and herself – to protect her children and to keep Sig'dan from harm. She had not appreciated the young Hunter's inexperienced youth on Earth, but here, especially as she had witnessed Theron so easily best him, she began to understand the danger he was in as her mate and why Ulfr had talked her into accepting his Sire as Consort.

She wondered why Myn'dill had supplied such a potentially lethal translator. She would ask him at the first opportunity. For now she pondered on if a Hunt Brother bond could be created between Hunters of differing Clans? She sent her queries in that direction and soon learned that on a few rare occasions such a Hunt Bond had been formed in the past. Armed with knowledge and precedent, the indomitable woman waited for her Consort and Sig'dan to call on her.

The training pair entered her room in good spirits, Sig'dan having learned much this day and his Sire apparently pleased with his progress. Sally noticed how much more at ease the Hunter acted with the Elite Arbitrator, still respectful of course, but calm and collected rather than on edge. "Please sit," she motioned to the large table surrounded by seating cubes. She walked to the stepped perch created just for her and ascended to her place, while motioning for an aseigan to bring liquid refreshment.

Aldúlfr spoke and Sig'dan translated, "Honorable Matriarch, the Consort wishes to know something, and he asks it in a teasing way. He noticed that your language assistant is not here, and wonders if you finally tired of him?"

Huge mandibles waved a bit as the Consort enjoyed his little jibe. Sally looked at him and gave a familiar tooth-covered smile. Now that she knew his secret, tensions between them had greatly eased. "Please tell him that I have given my translator a few hours off, in order that I might speak with both of you privately. Let it be noted; however, that I do tire easily of my Hunters." She fixated her gaze and a smirk right at the Arbitrator.

Sig'dan spoke in Yautja to the behemoth beside him at the table as the Consort sat with his eyes fixated on Sally while her words were spoken to him. He clicked his tusks rapidly and chortled, enjoying her quick comeback.

"I need to speak with you of something important to me. Aldulfr, it is my wish, no…my order, that you prepare a Hunt bonding ritual ceremony for yourself, Sig'dan and…Theron."

Sig'dan nearly choked as he heard her words. He did NOT want to give his Sire this order from his Matriarch, fearing abuse of the messenger. He had no choice though, and turned to the Arbitrator and carefully gave him the order.

No sooner had the name of Theron passed through Sig'dan's teeth than Aldúlfr slammed his fist on the table, loosing a true threat from his throat while an unbelieving glower took over his golden eyes. _Why in Paya's name does she ask this of me?_

Sally calmly looked straight at him, unwavering as she received the beacon of glittering rage transmitted from them. He spoke clicking short words back to Sig'dan and Sally soon heard, "No. Hunters from his Clan do not bind with ours."

She cocked her head and stared at Aldúlfr, "No? **You** tell me no?" The Consort averted his eyes, knowing his blunder. He had publically sworn to obey her and she had sworn to submit to him. She had lived up to her side of the bargain. Sally ignored his discomfort, "I have studied this and there is precedent for differing Clans to become Hunt Brothers under certain circumstances. Well, we have those circumstances right now."

The Arbitrator looked fiercely at her his crown raised, jaws spread in threat and the gold turning to piss in his eyes. If she didn't know that he was her sworn defender and trusted him to keep his word, if only for his honor, she would have been afraid. He growled and Sig'dan translated, "What would those circumstances be?"

"I require it. Therefore, I am ordering you," she returned, smugly. "I will also order Theron to attend. He is sworn to serve me."

"But why would Theron attending the ritual serve you, Sally?" Sig'dan rudely jumped in, forgetting her title and his place in this conversation. He was reminded by a sound thump to the back of his head by his Sire.

"Because I will need his translation services. I am attending also." She looked Sig'dan squarely in the face and then moved her laser beams to Aldúlfr. "This conversation is over. Consort, you will do as I have commanded as soon as possible. Sig'dan attend me in my quarters, I wish to speak with you." With that she climbed down from her roost with as much dignity as possible, when going down steps with no handrail, and marched off, leaving the two Hunters staring at her, and then each other.

_I'm beginning to see why Ulfr was attracted to her, _Aldúlfr regarded her respectfully as she departed, and then mentally smacked himself for having even an inkling of such a thought. Then he huffed in anger thinking of completing a Hunt Bonding with rangy, prideful and painfully excellent in combat - Theron. True, the Dor'an did not mate with oomans, but if the translator ever challenged him for her he was not certain of the outcome. At least if he lost to the fine-mandibled one he could count on a quick death to separate him from the shameful scene.

_What the pauk is she up to now, _wondered Sig'dan, watching his Sire carefully. _If he leaves to begin his task as she requested, I'm going after her. After all, she did order me to her quarters, _he thought smugly.

But the Consort stayed to speak with Sig'dan. "Is there anyone who can talk sense to her? We are going to need more of an excuse to form this Hunt binding than 'she requires it'. That is either the smartest ooman I have ever met or she is crazy! She doesn't know what she's up against with a Dor'an," he chortled grimly. "But having one on her side would be quite a weapon in her cache. Ha! Can you imagine all of us on a Hunt together? I have not hunted anything but Badbloods since before you were born! Let us research a pretense, my honored bloodline Hunter."

Sig'dan could not think due to the enormous accolade his Sire had just given him. Plus, the Arbitrator had just requested his assistance. He was all he could do to not balloon his chest with pride. "I am honored to assist in this, my Elder." He bowed in respect as Aldúlfr scented his offspring's pleasure at his words.

"I will leave to begin this quest," his Sire offered, "you must obey her and go to her room. Just what does she have planned for you?" he jested in amazingly good humor. "I hope you can train tomorrow and the enchantment of her mouth has not depleted all your energy from you."

Sig'dan's enjoyment of his Sire imploded into the black hole of reality as he realized his Sire spoke from experience and felt once more that the Consort's dominion of Sally was being rubbed in his face. Scenting his irritation, Aldúlfr thought, _you do not know the meaning of frustration, my grown pup. _He nodded to the young Hunter and took his exit, leaving goaded Sig'dan to go to the Matriarch.

Sally was pacing the floor impatiently when her Hunter entered, explaining that his Sire had spoken with him. "Well," she challenged, "What is your opinion of my idea?"

"It depends on your purpose, Sally. Why do you wish for this to happen?"

"I believe that it would be…healthy…for all concerned if you three became Hunt Brothers. I want you to have each other's back."

"I heard about my Sire's attack on Theron. Are you concerned for your translator's safety?"

"I would not want him to be unable to translate for me, Sig'dan, as you are not always able to be at my side."

"You know that I would like to be," he moved closer and put the strength of his arms around her.

"You know I'd like that too," she murmured, "but it can't always be." She nestled her ear to his chest and heard the familiar thumping of his heart.

"And, are you concerned for my safety," he softly questioned.

"I don't want to…insult you."

"It is easy to see that I was seriously mastered by him. He won fairly. I respect him for his talent and skill, Sal-lee."

"And if he ever took it upon himself, he could easily injure or even kill you Sig'dan!" She pulled away to see his eyes, "How could I go on without you?"

"As easily as you go without me now, my Matriarch," he retorted, smarting to himself at his youth and inability to kick everyone's ass to claim her for himself.

"Sig'dan, that's not what I meant. Yes I have Theron as translator and I have a Consort to defend me, but I don't require their presence like I require yours. There's no other that I desire, or even want to be near, like I do you. If there was a way, I'd claim you for only myself. The thought of sharing you with anyone burns anger deep inside me. And the knowledge that I'll never bear you a child brings sadness to my heart." She looked downcast after her confession.

The Hunter placed his warm palms on either side of her face, "Sal-lee, do you resent Mel-an-ee?"

"Actually…I…like her. She is smart and quick, and outspoken, but…yes. I resent her because she is young and beautiful and she's carrying your pup!" she stated fiercely.

"You are special to me," he rumbled in a near-whisper. "You will always be the one who gave of herself willingly to me and was my first taste of the pleasures of mating. You were the one I dreamed about back on your planet and never thought I would have you. And when I did…female, you have no idea of what pleasure you gave, and continue to give, me! But our ways are not ooman ways. You now have a Consort, and you must pleasure him at his request. Still, I will be with you whenever I can. I will always want you, Sal-lee."

"I can tell you care for her, Sig'dan. For Melanie."

"I do care for her, she bears my pup and I owe her much after treating her so dishonorably."

"So there isn't more to it, Sig'dan? You don't want her – sexually?"

The Hunter gave the equivalent of a frown with his mandibles, spreading the lower ones wide. "I will always be truthful with you – she is…appealing. But, I would never force myself on her…like I did before. And, I do not believe she is interested in me. I have never scented her desire."

Sally couldn't let it go, "So, if she was interested in you then you would?"

"I do not want to upset you, and I sense this is a delicate topic for you." The Hunter looked at her with gentlest softness in his eyes as he ran the back of his hand fondly over her cheek.

"I'm tough, I can take it. Tell me."

Sig'dan ploughed through his hesitation at her order, "If Mel-an-ee wanted me that way, yes…I would. It would mean another pup in my line, Sal-lee. It is our way to mate with many. You are free to mate with any you choose you know."

"I know…I know. I'm just having a difficult time with it…when it comes to you. I don't want to share you with anyone. I'm very selfish about you. And I honestly don't want anyone else," she half-grinned at him. "When I'm with the Consort, it is out of duty – nothing more. Just do me a favor, please. If you do mate with someone else, I don't want to know about it."

"It would be difficult to hide a pregnant Mel-an-ee from your eyes."

"Well, if that happens, maybe it could happen after she goes back to Earth. Perhaps she can find someplace safe there."

"In the meantime, Matriarch, I intend to satisfy your greed for me at every opportunity," he growled, picking her up and carrying her to the bed. She let out a soft scream of mock horror and weakly struggled against him.

They reached her sleeping platform and Sig'dan set her down. As he bent over her, she took his face between her hands and looked into the depths of his bright brown eyes for a moment before reaching behind his neck to press the button that released his protective collar. She had studied this technique in the mating diaries of the Yautja females, and hoped he would enjoy what had failed so miserably, and understandably, with the Consort.

She scooted back on the bed and he joined her on the furs. As he climbed in, she pushed on his chest, silently ordering him to position on his back. How well he knew her wordless intimate commands for what she wanted. His muscles flexed as he easily laid back and then she pulled on a lock until he raised himself up questioningly on his elbows wondering what her plan was. Wearing a wicked smile, she placed a leg over his thighs and sat facing him upon his pulsing lap. Then Sally's delicate fingertips brushed ticklingly under his chin, teasing it upward. Breathless with excitement, Sig'dan tilted his head, baring the thin sensitive skin of his neck to her, while his huffs grew heavier and more excited, anticipating her attention to this most sensitive unexplored area.

Sally opened her top and grazed his chest with the softness of her breasts as she crawled over him, watching a vein in his neck pulse his thrill at the feel of her. Reaching his throat, she wet her lips with her tongue and then kissed his skin, moving the fullness of her moist passion against him. Grabbing his skin with her teeth, a growl of stimulation vibrated under her as she toyed with his flesh. Biting just hard enough to bruise, Sally then used her tongue to smooth and pet the abused place. Sig'dan groaned his pleasure as she first assaulted and then wetly petted his throat and they both felt the tension grow under his cloth.

_Let it wait, _he thought, wanting to savor every moment with her. There was no rush, no hurry as he relished every teasing nip followed by the coaxing tongue and pliant lips. They had all the time…_where is the Consort? When will he return? _Sig'dan's bliss was rudely interrupted by this vital nerve-wracking question. Pulling Sally away, he asked worriedly, "Where is my Sire?"

"Relax, my love – he is away following my orders for the cycle. He will not interrupt us. Now lay back and let me give you something else to worry about," she threatened.

"With pleasure and then I have something that I shall worry YOU with," he spread his face in sincere challenge to her and lowered himself down.

"Keep your jaws just like that," she asked, moving in so close he could feel her breath on his teeth. "Now, gently close them so they touch me."

He had never experienced this with her, or with anyone, before. It was an altered version of an expression of supreme Yautja intimacy, one he could not enact completely with her as she lacked the equipment.

Gently he enclosed the sides of her head in his jaws, and to his incredulity she completed the act in her own way – she moved her hands to just below his jaw line and then wiggled a single finger on each side into the small space left there until her digits reenacted the role of female mandibles, touching the sides of his inner face while pressed there by his larger side jaws.

He found himself emotionally moved as she lay on top of him, and his eyes closed while he simply savored the pressure of her against his face as he dominantly held her helplessly. With his eyes closed, it was easy to forget that it was her fingers pressing his face. It was easy to believe that Sally had grown petite feminine mandibles that grasped him in anticipation of ecstasy.

He grunted and began to tear at her loincloth. It gave easily and he grasped her body, quickly shifting both of them over and pulling her into a bent-forward position as she held herself on her hands and knees. She thrilled to his sudden desperate demand for her as the eager flush of wanting him took over her body. _Oh God, I triggered his instinct! He's taking me like one of his own! _

She felt him prod into her, not with the usual gentle pushes, but with a great thrust as he went into her body as far as it would initially allow. Sally groaned in pleasure at the sudden fullness inside but had no time to relax as the wound up Hunter grasped her hips more firmly and made yet another thrust forward, and another and another - going deeper and deeper until he was fully consumed by her.

Sig'dan was immersed in the moist tightness that clasped around him as he nudged the very bottom of this place of pleasure. He growled and began to back up a little and then plunge forward into the growing wetness, feeling the drag on his swollen head with each pull. The object of his passion began whining as he provoked her to the place of mindless desire, the place where the rut encompassed all feeling, all sensation.

He increased his pace, not allowing her any time to adjust or think, only to feel and react. His seed creators began to tighten, building tension in readiness to explode. He cast aside any logic regarding Sally's condition and pictured her womb entrance painted with his seed as his need to impregnate the vessel beneath him caused him to reach down and sink his tusks into the already scarred shoulder. Grunting through his closed jaws, he jerked his body into her as deeply as he could go. Then, raising his head to the ceiling, he bawled out in fervor, his seed bursting into her depths while she shuddered and whined under him.

Sally was breathless with the pace of his rut. She had mimicked the feeling of a Yautja female's tusks on each side of his face underneath his mandibles just as she'd studied in the library readings. He had reacted explosively. Almost throwing her to hands and knees he had entered her with a series of deepening jolts and then began a frantic pace that was nearly painful. His feverish hardness, his mindless taking of her, brought Sally such a peak of pleasure that she nearly fainted.

He caught her as she slumped under him, and gently withdrew to turn her over. Gently he petted her face watching her fluttering eyes under they finally opened. Her words came between pants, "Damn, that was…unexpected. Unexpected and…beyond good."

"Sei, it was. I am still trying to understand it."

"Oh, don't think it to death, Sig'dan! Just enjoy it."

The Hunter laid down beside her and was quiet for a time as his breathing returned to normal. "Sal-lee…earlier…you called me something different."

"I did?"

"Yes, you called me 'my love'. I am somewhat familiar with the word love, but used that way - what does it mean?"

"Oh, yes, I did. It means that I care for you deeply. It means that you are very, very, very important to me. It means…it means I have deep positive emotions for you, Sig'dan."

"I am pleased that I am important to you. You are important to me – very important and I have deep positive emotions regarding you also."

Sally smiled a relaxed happiness and forgot to hide her teeth, but Sig'dan knew that it was not a challenge from her. It was a sign that she felt good, and was pleased. He thought of a question for her, "Sally…have you ever told anyone else this? That they were important to you and you had emotions for them?"

Sally thought for a moment. "Only my parents…my Bearer and my Sire, but those emotions were those of a child caring for its family – not a woman with feeling for her lover – her mate. Do you understand?

"I know that you are very special, and that when I am with you I experience great enjoyment – whether it is in our conversation or our mating. And when I am away from you, I think of you often. And…" he turned his face away from her in anticipation of the verbal admission of his deepest thoughts, "if Paya would grant me one thing, it would be that I was older and stronger and could beat the c'jit out of any who would challenge me for you."

"You…you do understand!" She laid her face upon his chest and listened to the well-known song of life playing within him. "If you were my human mate, there are special words that I would say to you and to no other."

"Say them then," he softly asked.

"Sig'dan…I love you."

He pulled her up onto his chest and looked deep into her green eyes. "Would I say something back?"

"Yes, you would tell me the same words."

"Sal-lee, I love you." He paused as other thoughts intruded upon his mind, "We will need to explain to Theron that the Hunt ritual is to seal our bond as your protector's and to protect the pups. He may or may not see the logic in this."

"Then I must convince him, my love."

They embraced and then Sally relaxed into sleep by the lullaby of the beating of Sig'dan's heart. He remained conscious, turning over her reasoning in his head. Realizing that she desired to protect him from Theron a small growl of dismay left his mouth. He reminded himself she was ooman and meant him no dishonor, but the translator would probably consider it a joke to bond to him – what need did a Dor'an warrior have of a newly Blooded Hunter to assist him?


	9. The Tao of Opportunity

**Chapter 8: The Tao of Opportunity**

"_I had rather be first in a small village in Gaul than second in Rome." Julius Caesar_

The cloaked Hunters stealthed through Yaut's orange-gray twilight until all were gathered in a narrow back pathway near the capital city's spaceport. Each had taken a tortuous route to this spot in order to avoid detection and lose anyone who might be following them. With a small click from their leader, they uncloaked and huddled together in silent conference.

The leader pointed, signaling with his hand which the heat vision of the Hunters could easily read in the growing darkness. Two of them recloaked and headed out, destined for a small side entry into the area where ships were left parked until needed. The crafty duo got down on their bellies and slowly slide-crawled disguised as mobile pieces of the ground in order to get by the guard station unnoticed. Once safely past the sentries, they got back on their feet and headed for the target - a small newly-developed type of ship where they would meet up with the rest of their party. The dark, wedge-shaped transport was being checked out by several aseigan to ensure that it was flight-worthy for the morning. The two invisible watchers settled next to another ship in order to let the servants complete their job. They might as well let the workers ensure that the craft was in working order before they stole it.

As the shadowy craft's final hatch was closed and the last report entry punched in, the two Hunters descended on the unsuspecting aseigan, quietly and bloodlessly dispatching them into oblivion by breaking their necks. Hiding the bodies under the low wing of a nearby cargo vessel one sent a short signal on his wrist com, triggering the complement of their party into action.

Soon, the wavering signature of a group of cloaked Hunters came from behind the ships parked in front of the same side entrance as the guard station which was now occupied by the quiet of Cetanu's claimed ones. The guards had bravely met the attack but were overwhelmed by the unexpected three-on-one. Such a disgraceful ratio would not have been supplied by the honorable, and only the Gods watched as the guards countered the Badbloods and battled to the death.

The victorious thieves ran to the transport to rejoin their companions who by now were in the piloting seats and had figured out the command sequence as well as how to control the technically advanced ship. As soon as the entire group boarded, the hatch was secured, and the command to depart given. The ship went straight up until it cleared the surrounding structures and then silently screamed into the atmosphere at a nearly 90 degree angle.

Those strapped into the piloting seats were merely shoved into the cushioned chair backs at the vessel accelerated through Yaut's gravity field. Most of those who had just boarded quickly grabbed onto something and held themselves steady against the g-forces that would have flattened them against the wall, but youngest one had not grabbed a hand hold in time and found himself humiliatingly pinned against a bulkhead unable to move. There he remained until the ship breached the atmospheric shell, became weightless and onboard gravity kicked in. All heads turned as a loud thump and groan advertised the young one reaching the floor. Unmerciful chitters of amusement went through the crew until Kash'ta reached over to give Kylfa a brotherly hand up saying, "I well recall my first flights. You will remember to secure yourself next time."

Although the vessel was cloaked, the port monitors became aware as soon as the ship began moving and raised an alarm at the unauthorized departure. The port's guards ran to their pursuit fighters and streaked into the night giving hot chase to the transport, but to no avail as it easily outdistanced the reach of their weapons and diverted to an interstellar gate. Once inside the gate's field, the rogue ship chose a destination and was lost to the port's tracking devices.

Onboard, the eight Hunters spread their faces and gave victory growls, pointing their chins in the direction of the planetary system they had just left. Shoulder clasps and congratulatory shakes went 'round the team until the leader called them to attention, "My Brothers! Remember this cycle! This marks the first step in our freedom - our freedom to create a world of opportunity for each of us to explore our greatness and honor our hybrid heritage. We are not of Yaut, we are not of Earth – we are made of both! And so we will honor the completeness of our ancestry and create a new place to live, to mate, to raise pups and form a new strong, honor-filled Clan!"

All the Hunters raised their fists and let out rumbles of approval, and then each one set out to accomplish his tasks and responsibilities as previously assigned. The leader looked at his diligent brothers approvingly. He had chosen this group carefully and was satisfied that he had chosen well. Particularly pleasing was his choice of youthful Kylfa. The Young Blood's assigned Hunt had provided them with knowledge of this superior craft and the opportunity to seize it. If Kylfa continued to prove useful and loyal, he would consider raising his status in the group.

At first, the green Hunter had been leery of the idea of requisitioning the seasoned Elder's ship, but the leader Kash'ta had used his cautious planting of words diligently until Kylfa had seen the light of the intelligence of the plan. Kylfa's fear of reprisal from the older Hunters that his father had found fit to join him with, was overcome with the hope of the newly converted. He enthusiastically cooperated with the radical group where for the first time he felt truly valued.

After the ship was deemed to be safely on its journey, the band came together for rations and c'ntlip. The salutes to the Gods, to honor and greatness flowed freely as the intoxicant loosened any chains of the old ways that still sought to oblige them. With hope for their future burning bright, they invented new toasts to opportunity and fairness. Looking for a turn to take the stage, Kylfa flamboyantly raised his stone cup, "To Honorable Kash'ta's plan that will give us all the chance to leave our valiant stories engraved in stone for our seed to glory in our achievements forever!" He sloshed the burning liquid down to growls of approval and a nod of appreciation from his Leader who willingly submitted to cloying praise from the immature Hunter he had taken as his protégé.

"Now to your sleep!" Kash'ta ordered, "I will take first watch. I need all of you at your peak when we reach the Blue Planet!" The Hunters obediently left for their quarters. Kash'ta kept watched and dreamed of the mates he would acquire and great Hunters he would sire. He was relieved halfway through the sleep cycle and went to his bed stilling imagining greatness.

The shipboard computer chimed to awaken the crew just before they broke high Blue Planet orbit. The ship had detected a large communications satellite that they could maneuver around, so as to position it between themselves and the planet, thus hiding any obvious signature of their position. From here, they would consult with the maps that Kash'ta had traded dearly for with a questionable Hunter in a late-night rendezvous at a seamy bar. The seller had assured him, on his Bearer's honor, that the map contained the location of several isolated and concealed dwellings where ooman females were agreeable to become the mates of Hunters – for a price. It was here that Kash'ta and the crew intended to procure willing females to begin their new Clan.

The transport glided through the planet's atmosphere, punching through the fair weather clouds that decorated the bright blue sky. Setting down on a plateau it bent the tall grasses beneath it and rested, gently pulsing with energy until the powerful drive was switched off. Soon, the hatch opened and the crew piled out in full gear, searching the ground, sky and horizon for any threat with the emotionless eyes of their masks. Near the dark conifers that sprouted halfway up the mountain slope, they spotted a structure. The leader divided them into two groups and cloaking, for the sake of safety, they trekked up the steep rise.

It was a crisp day and the Blue Planet sun had only recently broken the horizon. Kylfa and the others were comfortable in their environmental mesh in spite of the cool breeze wafting up the mountainside. He walked with his team, enjoying the places where shafts of light speared through the dark trees creating a spotlight on the forest floor. A poke from one of his fellows reminded him of duty and he refocused on scanning for any threat as they made their way to the map coordinates.

The two groups met up in an irregular clearing where the remains of what had been an ooman-built building lay broken, scattered and charred. The roof was half gone with a blackened opening to the daylight. The front entrance was caved in and articles of clothing, books and personal items lie strewn about the yard.

Kash'ta ordered the team to spread out and search for any oomans while he entered the structure. It was plain to see that someone had forced the front door open, ransacked the dwelling and then set fire to it. Nothing of any value was left. The team reconvened outside the house. "We found no oomans – female or male," one said. Another questioned, "Is this the work of Badblood oomans?"

The leader replied, "Perhaps. But the one who sold me the map said that those we seek are operating outside of ooman law, so this place may have come under attack by ooman Arbitrators. There is no indication of a battle as no blood is in evidence to me. Did any of you find any blood?"

They all indicated the negative and with slightly dampened enthusiasm headed back to the ship. Kylfa took Kash'ta slightly aside as they hiked back to ask a quiet worried question, "So we are seeking Badblood ooman females as our mates?"

Kash'ta nearly sputtered, "No! This planet is under Yautja control. We acquire mates for breeding as we choose. Some females have chosen to mate with us of their own accord, and the oomans have passed laws forbidding it. So you see, their law contradicts our law. Now whose law is stronger and should be obeyed?"

"Why, Yautja law of course," replied the dutiful Kylfa.

"So, these females are not Badbloods – they are merely honoring our law. Therefore, they must be among the most advanced of oomans to realize the honor in mating with us and bearing our lines. Do you agree?"

Kylfa looked up at Kash'ta in awe, knowing that his leader's reasoning was profound. "Sei! They are very honorable!" he agreed. Kash'ta reached over and gave him a friendly shoulder shake.

"Do not worry Kylfa, I will find you a mate worthy of your future greatness."

The ship traveled on to another set of coordinates from the map. This time it set down on the night side of the planet in a scrubby desert full of boulders and ravines. In the distance the night-time illumination of a great city shone, and nearby an intact building sat with a warm glow from the windows welcoming them to the front entrance.

The group again cloaked and carefully made their way. When they were close to the entrance they could see that on the door were bright Yautja characters that read, 'Welcome Hunters please enter'. Smaller Kylfa was nearly knocked over by the others in their eagerness to get in the door. Kash'ta brought the commotion to a halt with a commanding growl. "We will enter with the dignity that befits us, will we not?" he growled to the team. Leading the way, he uncloaked and brought the procession through the door into a large intimately lit room where soft music was playing.

A large dignified aseigan entered, bowing and greeting them without making eye contact, "My master sends his welcome. He regrets his delay but he is with another guest at the moment. Please be seated. May I offer you c'ntlip?"

"I scent females!" exhaled Kylfa in his loudest stage-whisper. The others began immediately huffing and grunts of agreement filled the air.

Kash'ta then spoke, "We will accept your offer of drink. We are eager to see your females."

"My master welcomes your visit. He will be here soon." The aseigan gave his most humble bow of submission and quickly poured mugs of c'ntlip for the Hunters who took their first swallow then raised their brows in surprise. This was the highest-rated c'ntlip any of them had ever tasted! It was exceedingly better than the usual swill their meager accounts could afford.

Another round was poured and the team was well into enjoying it when the Master of the house made his appearance to greet them, "I regret my delay most Honorable Hunters," he began his well-practiced cordial welcome. "You are exceedingly welcome here. I trust that the c'ntlip is satisfactory?"

"It is," Kash'ta was suddenly all business. "We are here seeking mates."

"As are all who come here," the Master clicked and chortled. "I have a fine selection for you to choose from. But enough talking – let me show them to you!" He pressed a button on his wrist com and the sound of feminine laughter and footsteps reached the Hunter's ears.

From their seats, all the Hunters leaned forward to see and evaluate what was entering the room. A beautifully rounded female with long black hair braided into many locks was first. She wore a loincloth of fine soft fabric that was the slightest cloth any Hunter had ever seen. Covering her breasts were two pieces – mere scraps of the same fine cloth held together and on her body with a fine silver cord. She gracefully moved into the room in time with the sounding drums, strings and reeds, her hips swaying, her arms and hands gracing the air.

The music was drowned out by the pronounced huffing of the large males as they stared open-mawed at the sensuality before them. Kash'ta thought she was the most physically desirable female he had ever seen – but how healthy was she? How intelligent?

One by one, the other women came through the door, each one clad as the first and each one moving in a beguiling fashion beckoning the Hunters to enter paradise. By the time the parade of dancing bodies had ended, and the females were assembled on the other side of the room, the Hunters' were nearly slavering for the rut but a command from their cool leader held them in check.

Turning to the Master, Kash'ta asked, "We need to know about their health."

"Oh, completely understandable! Each one is certified in complete health by our Healer. They are examined weekly. None of them carry any disease, noble Hunter."

Kash'ta gave a nod of appreciation at the answer as his team gawked openly at the females – the choices seemed endless. "We also need to know of their intelligence."

"Intelligence? Wha…Oh! Sei! They understand basic Yautja commands and will assume any position you request, and perform any act. I would like to point out the specialties of some of them…"

Kash'ta quickly moved to interrupt the Master, "Honorable Hunter, we are not here to simply breed – we are here to obtain mates."

The Master stood and cocked his head quizzically. "You are here for what?"

"To each obtain one or more mates."

"You wish to purchase my females for mates? They come at great cost. I hardly think Hunters as young as yourselves would have the means to purchase them. You simply want mates? Why don't you go into the town and find some for free?"

Kash'ta was confused, "This is not a place to obtain a mate?"

The Master could hardly contain himself, "H'ko, young one. Who told you about this place?"

"I purchased a map from a Hunter who assured me on his Bearer's honor that this was such a place!" Kash'ta was beginning to feel embarrassed.

"This is a place where Hunters can come and rut any of these females for a fee. These are not mates – they are providers of pleasure, my friend. Would you like to try it? I assure you of an enjoyable time."

Kash'ta turned and ordered his crew to leave the place. No one heard his first order, and he loudly barked the second. "These are not the mates we seek, we will go elsewhere!" His Hunters slowly and reluctantly got up and, with obvious difficulty walking, left the misunderstood place in a hurry to get outside and make codpiece adjustments.

Kylfa sensed Kash'ta's anger. He did not understand the reason why they had been ordered to leave but trusted in Kash'ta without question. They made their way back to the ship, with some of the crew grumbling, "Why could we have not at least tried the females? It would have set us in a better frame of mind to seek our mates!"

Back on board, Kash'ta had heard enough. "Which of you would challenge me to be leader?" All heads dropped in submission as Kash'ta was older, larger and more experienced. None of them would seek a beating from him – yet. "I ordered us away from that place because those females are regularly rutted by others. Do you want to catch something? I do not believe for a moment in his promise of their health! Our mates must be clean and intelligent for us to begin our new Clan. Do any of you doubt my desires for each of you, or my wisdom?" His eyes burned into them waiting for any objection.

"I thought not. Now, since this map is false, let us go elsewhere and explore. Does anyone have any helpful Blue Planet knowledge to for us to consider?" Kash'ta desperately fished for some assistance. He was caught without a backup plan as he had been so certain in the truth of the map he had purchased and dared not let the crew know his completely planless state.

All the Hunters gazed thoughtfully at the ship's walls, until Kylfa nodded to the mission leader who responded, "Yes, what is it you know?"

"I know of the place on this planet that the Matriarch was born – she showed me herself one day. She is very worthy, so perhaps in that place will may find other females like her."

Kash'ta clapped his underling on the back, "Well done, Kylfa! That is useful information. Show us on this projection." A globe of the Blue Planet appeared to hover above the command console. Kylfa studied the continental shapes as the orb spun until he saw the distinctive place in a northern land mass shaped like a close-fingered ooman hand with just the thumb sticking out. He stopped the planet's spin and moved a beamed pointer to a spot in the middle lower part of the 'palm'.

"This is the area she pointed to, my brothers. She said there are several small cities there and also some agricultural sites, along with many small bodies of water and areas of very tall plants called 'trees'."

"Set in a course to take us to this place," he ordered the Hunter who functioned as navigator. The one who piloted their craft jumped into his seat as everyone else found a stable place. The ship cloaked its sleek beauty and quickly attained speed, proceeding eastward over the large continent beneath it and then over a vast expanse of ocean. Within a short time the desired land mass rolled beneath them and they sped over first mountains, then a large plain until the large lakes surrounding the hand of land could be viewed. The ship made a steep descent with the unseated crew bracing themselves with a wide stance and grasped whatever was near to steady themselves. The ship slowed as it neared the ground and the pilot began to consider landing places as the light of the yet-to-rise yellow sun was peeking over the horizon.

North of a smallish city the dwellings were widely spaced and crop fields could be seen. Other fields were green and contained herds of black and white colored creatures. A wooded area was just ahead in which there was a small clearing, Kash'ta pointed to it and the ship was soon gently lowering itself silently onto the field.

Kash'ta conducted the group from the invisible ship slowly and cautiously. They did not know what to expect from this place. The group scanned the field's edges first in enhanced heat vision. A group of lean creatures with huge ears pricked for danger was on the edge of the clearing also apparently on the lookout for danger. Although they could not see the Hunters, they could smell that something was amiss from the breeze that wafted to them through the field. Abruptly they jumped and ran back into the dark depths of the plants.

From another direction a slightly muffled ooman voice could be heard, "Well, crap! That's just great. We sit here in this blind for hours and finally spot some deer and then wham! Something spooks them. I swear they didn't see or smell us! What do you think Dave?"

"I dunno, Dad. Deer are awfully jumpy this time of year. It doesn't take much to scare them. Come on, let's go to the diner and get breakfast. We can try again tomorrow morning."

The Hunters stayed perfectly frozen in place, listening to the two oomans converse and make far too much noise as they left. To the sensitive hearing of the Yautja, they were so loud that Kylfa wondered if the ooman hunters were ever successful in the making a kill.

Some of the Hunters itched to take the oomans as prey, but Kash'ta wisely held them back. "We are here to hunt mates, not trophies. If these two turn up missing, who knows how many of their Arbitrators will be out searching and interfering with our mission? It is best to let them go. Another time, we will hunt for honor."

The team soundlessly made their way through the woods until they came upon a gravel road. They followed along its grassy edge in order to not leave footprints until the road met a highway. Knowing that it led to the city, the still-cloaked Hunters walked single-file along its edge with the rising sun beginning to cast a pinkish glow to drive back the night. Occasionally a rolling ground vessel would pass by, leaving them unnoticed on the edge of its forward lights as they trudged on. One caught their attention as it slowed and pulled off the roadway, progressing to a stop. The Hunters crouched down ready for trouble as the door opened and a young boy exited the vehicle and made for the off-road dense plant growth. In a few minutes he came back and jumped into his seat, slamming the door shut. The navigator huffed the air and then gave a low chortle, "He was only relieving himself."

The others had been captivated by the large example of one of the creatures they had seen upon landing that was strapped across the rearward part of the ground vehicle. Red blood had made a warm faintly flowing rivulet from a tiny hole in the creature down the smooth end of the machine. The animal had been gutted and the Hunters' wondered if the choice parts had already been consumed by the oomans back at their hunting camp. The thought of sweet fresh meat filled everyone's mind. They would have to take some of the creatures for their larder after the mission was accomplished.

Continuing down the roadway they passed more houses with most occupants sleeping in or just beginning their Saturday morning routine. 'Weekend' was a foreign concept to the Hunters who thought the oomans quite lazy to not be out and about with the sun so obviously above the horizon. A few more vehicles were traveling the road and Kash'ta decided to drop back into the neighborhood lanes to avoid detection. Besides, it was much more interesting to see the dwellings and there would be greater opportunity to spot females in or near their homes.

The dwellings were becoming larger and farther apart as the group continued their trek. Everyone stopped as the sound of water being quickly displaced into the air came from behind the dwelling they were in front of. With a signal from Kash'ta the group broke into two. One took one side, the second took the other and they slowly crept around the house. Weapons at the ready, they each scanned for lifeforms but found a tall wall obstructing their view. From behind the wall was the sound of something moving through water. Kash'ta nodded to one of the Hunters who quickly sprang up, put his hands on the fence top and pivoted his body over it to the other side. A small light flicked on Kash'ta's wrist come signaling it was safe and the rest of the group followed his flight path taking the privacy fence with ease.

On the other side was a rectangular body of surprisingly warm and very clean water with a single ooman moving about in it. Quickly assessment of the scene led to the conclusion that the tiny lake was artificially heated. The group watched as the ooman made the far side and dove underneath, pushing it's head down to where the feet had been and then coming up again this time with it's back on the water. It came to the surface with strength and began revolving it's arms through the air and then into the water while the legs moved up and down. The ooman propelled itself through he water towards the Hunt party. As it grew nearer, the distinctive shape of ooman breasts could be made out going from side to side underneath some thin fabric as the arms did their flailing pattern. They watched her reach the near side, push water over her head and do a back bend through the pool so as to come up again this time with her back side up. She began again to move her arms and legs in a distinctive pattern that pulled and pushed her through the water.

The group Healer was already running scans and quietly gave Kash'ta a nod. He in turn nodded to one of the group who went over to the pool edge as the young woman was again headed in their direction. Her face was pointed to the sky, and she did not see as the wavering air slipped into the shallow water and stood waiting for her.

When her strokes drew near he caught her up with one huge arm and placed his vast palm over her mouth, muting any cry for help she tried to make at her unexpected capture. The woman's eyes went wide as she was pulled from the backstroke to land against solid warmth. Instinctively she struggled but found there was no breaking the hold that had her around the waist, neck and mouth. So she willed her muscles to melt to see what would happen next. The hold did not relax at her sudden limpness, the Hunter wondering if she had become unconscious. The next thing that happened was a sharp jab at her neck and the world went dark. The successful Hunter's probable mate was slung over his shoulder and appeared to move through thin air as the group trekked back to their ship taking a longer and more concealed route.

Throughout the day the group made their plans. Then near dusk the ship became airborne and moved to a spot nearer the group of larger dwellings. In the corn field of a nearby farm it set down and, when it left, would leave a perfect pattern of flattened rectangles, baffling locals and luring crop circle aficionado's to stare and take pictures.

From here the group stole out and searched the neighborhood, peering into darkened backyards and softly lit windows. They soon found a house with a group of five females gathered in a room, unaware of the evaluation that was taking place as the Healer beamed his scanner through the glass. They were a touch young, but not too young and in excellent health. The Hunters watched in fascination as they laughed, ate and drank while a large screen in the room was displaying a recording or live act of oomans rutting. Watching the amply endowed ooman male's member slide into the female's mouth was difficult to ignore by those who could see the show. A growl from Kash'ta reminded them to focus on their mission. Heat reconnaissance of the rest of the dwelling showed it was empty. The time to move was now!

With a crash they broke through four of the windows, two on each side of the large room, and fired capture nets at the quarry. A sound-organ damaging wail began and Kash'ta surmised it was some sort of alarm. The girls outdid the alarm in shrieked terror as the house intruder alert went off and nets materialized out of thin air while shattered glass launched into the room. Ducking down to escape the shards, they were immediately covered with netting which drew tight around their cowered forms to prevent escape. Each girl found herself hauled up into the air against a hard jarring contact as they were hoisted away into the night and a jabbing stab to the neck made them silent. The Healer uttered a silent prayer of supplication to Paya - she need only bless them with two more and each Hunter would have the first of a clutch of mates.

Kash'ta thought to himself, _it would have been better to have found willing mates as the map promised, but there is not time now. Struggling mates will be better than none as long as they are strong and reasonably intelligent. They will learn to accommodate us because there will be no alternative. _

With the unconscious girls joining the first they had captured, who was still kept sedated, the Hunters set off to acquire at least two more. This time they went deeper into the neighborhood, skirting around the vehicles of the Arbitrators who were now at the scene of the previous abduction. They needed to find their mates quickly, before more oomans became knowledgeable that females were missing.

A vehicle cruised down the street and the group held still until it passed. It pulled up to a large house across the street and two oomans, they appeared to be a male and a female, got out and went into the dwelling. The Hunters kept watching and after a bit the front door opened and a young female left, waving and saying something to those in the house. The door shut behind her and she began to walk right towards them. Kylfa could hardly believe his luck! Only he and Kash'ta needed yet to find a mate, and here was a potential one coming right up to him! The Healer signaled that she was eligible and Kylfa struck, wrapping his arm tightly about her and jamming the needle before she could even squeak. In his exuberance to collect her, his grab turned into a tackle and they both hit the ground with a thud. Kylfa turned it into a roll to avoid slamming the small female and squashing the life from her. Another nod from the Healer told him that she had not sustained injury and he scooped her up in his arms to carry her back to the ship. What the Hunters did not realize was that a police car had pulled over to watch the air wavering and shimmering under the street lamps and had witnessed the abduction of the girl by a ghost.

The slam of a car door and running footsteps made them whirl about to see an officer with weapon drawn running their way. A triangle of red dots appeared on the officer's forehead when the Healer gave a grunting word of surprise – "female!" The ooman Arbitrator was female! Kash'ta lowered his cannon and moved to take her down without harming her. He did the honor of uncloaking for his attacker.

Sprinting Officer Duncan was brought up short by the visage appearing before her. It was the familiar fearsome shape of a Yautja Hunter, known to her by televised news and various reports on the missing that crossed her desk from time to time. Knowing that she had no chance against it and also understanding that most of this conquering race had respect for females, she dropped her weapon and stood tall, trying her best to appear unafraid. Slowly, ever watching the alien for any sign of disapproval, she removed her issued uniform cap. The Yautja simply stood his ground, watching her. Again moving slowly, she reached behind her head fiddling with the clasp that kept her long unruly hair under control. Success! She pulled it away and staring straight at the Hunter let the red tresses fall in locks and wisps about her shoulders.

Kash'ta saw her surrender when the warm grip of her firearm hit the ground. He cautiously stepped forward until he could seize her by grasping the full head of hair at the back of her neck. Turned her head sharply sideways, he swiftly jabbed the sedation into her system. In short order, she settled with a sigh and he slung her over his shoulder, nodding to the group and heading in the direction of the ship. She was not as young as the others the Healer had signaled him, but she was youthful enough to bare him many pups and in excellent health. _How fitting for a Clan_ _Leader to take an Arbitrator as a mate_, he considered.

As Officer Duncan struggled to awaken, she felt herself lying on a very hard surface and realized that she had been unconcious. Her eyelids felt paralyzed as did her limbs, in fact she could move nothing, but was rapidly becoming aware of herself and her surroundings. She managed to squeak open her eyes just a bit, but only a blur greeted her and she blinked slowly to try and clear her vision. When it would not she closed her eyes and tried to feel what was around her. The surface beneath her was warm but very hard like steel. She moved her fingers upon it and felt only smoothness. Suddenly she realized that her wrist was bound to the surface and she could not move her arm up. Her other wrist felt likewise. She tried to move her legs and found them free, but further movement found what felt like a metallic strap restraining her waist. Only her legs and feet could move freely. She tried to turn her head to the side but found a collar bound her and prevented her from lifting or turning her head. She was trapped and at the mercy of Hunters! A cold chill ran through her.

She had learned quite a bit about the Yautja during her officer training and realized that they would probably not kill or injure her as she had great value to them as a mate and child-bearer. She had to stay calm and keep her wits about her if she was going to survive and possibly escape. Recent reports had been that the Hunters would leave their claimed females on Earth if the women desired. Apparently nobody had told this bunch about that. _Maybe they are rogues, _she considered. _I have heard of criminals in their ranks, but they are not tolerated and are hunted by their own law enforcement. I can only pray that if these Hunters are criminals, their law is in pursuit. There may be hope of rescue! Where are the other women they took?_

Duncan's vision was clearing but with the restrain she couldn't look around the room. She became aware of soft weeping near her and called out, "You…the one crying. Who are you? I am a police officer."

The room was suddenly full of women's voices crying out to her to help them. "Quiet!" she yelled at them and had to repeat it several times. "I have been captured also. You must listen to me if you want to survive this!" Then Officer Duncan explained who their captors were and how the women were valued and what they would be used for. "You must stay calm and endure," she begged them. "If there is a way to escape, I will find it and I will take all of you home. Until then, we must remain calm and tolerate what is done to us. Do you understand?"

A small childlike voice whimpered, "But they are going to rape us! I've never been with a man before – let alone one of them!" She began to cry.

"It will be alright! They will give us a drug to make it easy for you, try not to be afraid," the officer countered, trying to quell her own fear.

In another part of the ship, the victorious Hunters' anxiously quizzed their Leader. "When can we begin to rut them?" asked the navigator.

"We have been waiting for this a long time. I for one do not intend to wait much longer!" stated the next-in-command to Kash'ta. Kylfa's eyes bugged open at this nearly direct challenge to their Leader.

Kash'ta answered them calmly, "Our Healer is with them now. He is making the final checks of their health and intellect. Only when he says it is time will we touch them, do you understand? I will kill any of you who disobey," he ended with a deadly growl and jaws wide in challenge. All of them submitted, even the one who had objected to the wait.

The Healer was in the cargo bay with the restrained females, running his scanner and injecting each with a combination of vaccines and supplements the Yautja used to ensure their females remained healthy. Some of the girls whimpered when he appeared over them. Duncan kept them company with her steady voice, urging them to not be afraid – the Yautja was obviously a Doctor and was simply seeing to their health. In her own mind, Duncan prayed her assessment of him was correct and that he was not some sort of mad scientist running experiments on them.

**A/N: Thanks again to all who review. I'm super busy at work, and a wee bit tired of late, so I don't always take much time to respond to your comment. Please don't be put off by that - be assured that each of you are appreciated!**


	10. A Calling

**Chapter 9: A Calling**

"_**Friendship must dare to risk, or it's not friendship."  
- Captain Jean-Luc Picard in the TV show Star Trek: The Next Generation**_

The Bearer's Hall was mostly empty these days. When given a choice of staying or returning to Earth, only a few women had decided to stay on Yaut. Some thought that by staying with the aliens they might be able to see the children that had been taken away for training. Others stayed to enjoy the opulent lifestyle, as it was far better than the living they had been able to eke out for themselves on Earth. A very few stayed for the incredible sexual experience – for them the price they paid with their bodies of bearing a pup for the Hunters was worth the few days of physical bliss every couple of long cycles. Each group thought that their reason for staying was the best and most justifiable, and that the others, especially those that stayed for sex, were not quite right in the head.

The Hunters who's Bearers had chosen Yaut over returning to the Blue Planet, thanked Paya. They would not have to take as much time out from hunting prey or other important business as often to venture to the Blue Planet to obtain mates. Some of them lavished gifts upon their Bearer who stayed, hoping it would further entice them to remain.

Melanie was the sole differing one in the mélange. She had returned purposefully, to save the life of her unborn, and once it was old enough and they took it away to be trained, she planned to return to Earth. In the meantime, she concentrated on getting to know the women in the Hall, hoping to find friendship.

She quickly discovered that the women had divided themselves into groups depending on their reason for staying, and that the groups looked down upon each other, with the two larger factions both despising the ones who stayed for pleasure. She thought it petty and stupid. _We were all initially victims, and we need each other in this strange place for comfort and strength. There should be support in the entire group. None of us should feel rejected by any of the others. I wonder how many women back on Earth are facing forms of rejection or even danger for what has happened to them? Maybe some of them weren't as lucky, or perhaps as able to be daring like I was._

As the cycles went by, Mel was finally accepted by the group that was staying in hopes of reuniting with their children. They sympathized with her and admired her bravery in saving her baby. She began to talk to them about the need for acceptance by all the women sharing their plight. Several began to listen and follow her example. Mel shunned no one. In fact, she would deliberately sit next to a woman from one of the other groups and try to strike up a conversation. Much of the time her effort was fruitless, but on some occasions it paid off. Mel was patient, slowly and surely her tactic began to pay off as the previous foes began to socially sustain one another.

Sally came to visit Mel soon after she arrived. The Matriarch couldn't help her curiosity as to what kind of a person Melanie was and just what had attracted Sig'dan to her. Plus, she was always looking for a friend among the women left since she was lonely for human companionship at times. She had many acquaintances, and all the women were friendly to her, but she had not yet made a close human contact. That mirrored her experience on Earth, where lots of people smiled and were pleasant but very few became true friends.

So Sally visited with Mel, not just the one time, but many times and began to get to know her. She also invited Melanie to her quarters for meals and to have Sally's computer programs that translated from Yautja to English demonstrated to her. "If you like, Mel, I will have one installed in your quarters, there's much to learn about and from, this society."

"I would appreciate that," the young woman answered. She had become bored in the Bearer's quarters and declined the gossip sessions that occupied some, or the arts and crafts that others enjoyed. "This will be sort of like getting back to my college classes," she smiled. "May I ask a favor?"

"Yes," Sally responded.

"I used to run, and participate in many sports. Is there a place outdoors that I might at least go for walks? I'm feeling very lethargic - my body is going to pot."

"Would you like to walk in my garden, Mel? It is quite lovely there and cool in the early morning. I will have to arrange for security for you, of course. We can't take any chances."

"That would be wonderful. You mean I might be in danger if I went outside alone?" Melanie was shocked, every Yautja she had come across was respectful of her as a Bearer, and she had not imagined that there might be another side to things.

"I know of no specific dangers, but the Hunters would insist. Pups and mothers are extremely precious to this race."

Sally found Melanie to be an intelligent, pleasant young woman and could not find anything to dislike about her, other than the irrational jealousy that kept creeping up and whispering little things in Sally's brain. 'Her hair is so long and lovely! Look at the way it gently makes its own slightly twisted locks.'

Sally wished her growing hair would do that because it sort of looked like the locks of Hunters. _Was her hair what drew Sig'dan to her? Or was it the firmness of her youthful flesh? The smooth lineless face… Well, I bet she doesn't have nice scars like I do! _Sally gave a knowing smile, remembering how Ulfr had traced her abdominal scar with a single talon and told her how attractive it made her.

Mel's voice interrupted Sally's time travel, "Sally, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Mel. What's on your mind?"

"Well, first of all, I'm really glad you're here. And I'm happy for your friendship. I don't think I could get through this without you."

"Well, thanks! That means a lot to me. I'm grateful to have you as a friend too. Sometimes a girl just needs a break from Hunters – don't you think?" Sally replied with a sly wink. They both smiled.

"It has to be tough on you," Melanie continued. "At least I live with humans. You are constantly surrounded by all things Yautja."

"Oh, don't feel sorry for me. I'm mostly happy with my life here. I'm very happy that I'm…that we're about to become mothers. Even if our kids are half alien. I'm sure you feel the same."

"Of course I care about my child," Mel said, patting her slowly enlarging belly. "I'm glad to be here where we are safe. But I must admit, I'm looking forward to resuming my life back on Earth eventually. Don't you miss Earth?"

"Truthfully, or as the Hunters say, in purity I do at times but not often. I have so much to keep me busy here and I have…close relationships with several of the Hunters."

"Sig-dan has told me that your relationship with him is quite special."

Sally's eyebrows lifted, "He has?"

"Yea. Are you guys in love or something?"

"Well, I most certainly love him and I believe that he feels a great deal for me – but I'm not sure you can label it human love. He…will mate others as they allow if they can produce him children…you know, as you are doing."

"ALLOW?" Melanie was on her feet. "You have forgotten my rape?"

"Not at all," Sally replied calmly, "that was his first mating hunt. His first search for a Bearer of his children. You must try and understand the hormones, instinct and social pressure that drove him."

Melanie was becoming enraged, "I REFUSE to accept ANY circumstances for rape!"

"I do not condone his actions! But I think I understand them. For him to have realized the error and dishonor of his ways is a miraculous thing in one of his kind. Or should I say hybrid as he is half human. Did you know?"

Melanie snorted in disbelief, "He is? Where?"

"Oh trust me, there are differences. If you'd been with a full blooded Hunter, you'd realize." Sally suddenly had to look away and Mel watched her chin quiver a bit.

"Sally, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude to you, it's just that it was such a horrible experience for me. I still have nightmares about it."

"It's ok. Believe it or not, I DO understand somewhat." She kept herself turned away while Melanie watched the Matriarch's usual cool demeanor begin to slide into the ever-present place of grief that Myn'dill's drugs never resolved but only kept at bay.

"Oh My God! You have!" Melanie sat back down in surprise. "Which one? Did he rape you?"

"Yes, I have. No, it wasn't rape but it's is a painful subject Mel." Sally paused for a moment and breathed out in a sigh, "He's dead."

"I'm…so sorry. I didn't know."

"I know you didn't. His name was Ulfr, he was Sig-dan's oldest brother. He was and is very special to me. I know you are not as sympathetic to Yautja culture as I am, but please try to understand. Sig-dan has realized his error and seeks to atone for it with you. He is very ashamed of what he did and he'll never force another again."

"Well, fine for the next woman – too bad for me!" Mel snapped back.

"In time perhaps you can see him differently. He…" Sally was about to tell Melanie that the Hunter cared for her, but seeing Mel's firm jaw set, she ended with, "he is a most honorable person."

The cycles and Melanie's pregnancy continued as she worked with the other women on creating relationships and continued socializing with Sally. They often walked in the garden together before the rays of Yaut's sun fully broke over the horizon. Mel's body grew a little rounder and larger as the pup took up more room. It was still too small to feel a kick or movement but it was growing. The Healer, Myn'dill, had become concerned with some of Mel's test results early on, and was now doing a weekly check on her status instead of the usual monthly tests. But Mel felt fine other than being more tired than usual.

One cycle, he approached her with a sparsely worded request to sedate her and take a few cells from the outside of her womb. He had already explained the need and potential risk if it was not done to the Matriarch and received her permission.

"You want to do WHAT?" Melanie immediately steamed at his question. "Absolutely not! I came here to keep my child safe, not endanger it due to some bizarre procedure that you want to perform."

Myn'dill couldn't understand much of what she'd said, but completely understood that his desire to take cells had upset her. He called Theron on the com and requested to borrow him from Sally. Shortly after his call, both the Matriarch and her translator were hurrying to the exam room where they found Myn'dill doing his usual ooman head pats and saying, "No fear," over and over again. Mel had a look of pure disgust on her face as they walked in.

"Sally, will you tell this…this doctor that I am not a dog? I'm beginning to get a headache from him jamming my skull down on my spine!"

"It's ok, Myn-dill," Sally said, putting her hand out to catch his and move it away from the woman. "What is the problem, Melanie?"

"He wants to take cells from my body, from my uterus I think. His English sucks you know."

"Mel, please do not insult this Yautja. He is my personal Healer and yours too. Our lives and the lives of our children are in his capable hands. His skills are the finest, and besides – he is my friend." Sally looked sternly at the young woman.

"Oh. Well I feel really stupid now. Just why does he need to do this?"

"Your body is trying to reject your baby, Melanie. The Healer wants to sedate you and take a couple cells from the outside of your uterus. He won't cut you open. This is done with a very fine needle-like suction device. I've had it done myself. With your cells, he will make an artificial womb for the baby – just in case he is not successful in getting your body to grow the baby to term. Do you understand? He's trying to help you. He's trying to save your child."

Comprehension lit up Mel's face, and she looked at the Healer with newfound gratefulness in her eyes. "Will you thank him for me Sally? And…please tell him that I am sorry to have insulted him, I didn't understand."

Sally nodded at Theron who interpreted Mel's words for Myn'dill. The large Healer looked at Mel with softness in his dark eyes and then patted her on top of her head again, saying, "Good ooman." Mel gritted her teeth and kept smiling at him.

She was promptly sedated and the needed cells were safely extracted and taken to the lab where they were given a growth accelerant and placed on the artificial womb form where they would quickly form a vessel to house and supply the pup until term. Myn'dill hoped it would not be needed, but it was best to be prepared.

Mel recovered quickly; in truth there was nothing to recover from besides sleeping until the sedation wore off. She was lying in her own room when she awakened and took in a startled breath to find a Hunter seated on the edge of her bed, but immediately saw that it was Sig'dan.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"I'm okay, just a bit groggy. But my head is clearing fast."

"I heard that you became upset with Myn'dill's request and that Sally and her translator helped you to understand."

"Oh…yea. I'm a little embarrassed about that. The Healer was just trying to help and I…reacted badly."

"There is no need for an apology, this is all new to you and Myn'dill doesn't speak your language very well, does he?"

Mel cracked a grin, "Nope. He sure doesn't!

"As you are doing well, I will leave…I have some things to do," the Hunter said. "Mel-an-ee, I trust Myn'dill with my life, and with your life and the life of our pup."

"I understand, Sig-dan. And thank you for being here with me when I awakened. I…appreciate your concern."

"I think highly of you," the Hunter bowed slightly to her and then left the room.

_I'm not forgiving him for the rape…but…he was actually rather nice, _Mel considered as she arose and left her room to join the others.

Mel continued adapting to life on Yaut in the Bearers' quarters as best she could. She found the computer provided compelling information as she read about the Hunters, their way of life, Yautja society and any other subject she could think of available for study on the translating station that Sally had installed in her quarters. Sally was right she decided, there was much to learn from this race even though she was growing weary of seeing so many crab-lipped faces and longed for her own world.

The young woman kept herself occupied as an aid to her sanity, but returning to Earth was never far away in her mind. She missed her life there, especially her family and friends. _Just have this baby, _she would remind herself, _and raise it for a little while, and then it will be time to go home. I can do this, I can get through this._

Some time later while sitting down to breakfast in the Bearers' shared dining area, a sudden pain from deep within her lower abdomen sent a scream from her throat as she grabbed her stomach and began to pant. She had never felt a pain like this in her life; it felt like a knife was plunged into her gut and then twisted. She cried out again as she felt another stab. One of the other women ran for a guard who quickly summoned a Healer.

Waves of nausea hit Mel as the pains continued coming, faster and stronger. She was picked up and carried to an exam room where an unknown Healer had the guards hold her down so he could scan and sample. Where was Myn'dill? She was writhing in pain and couldn't hold still for the tests. Bravely, she tried not to scream, but it was too much and tears ran from her eyes as her distress continued.

She blessed the unknown Healer when he finally injected her with something for the pain and then she blacked out. When she came around, Myn'dill, Sig'dan and the unknown Healer were in the room. Sig'dan noticed she was awake and came to her, "How do you feel?" he asked.

"I'm, uh… woozy and thirsty," she replied, blinking her eyes to try and clear the view.  
"The doctor gave me something for the pain…and then I must have fallen unconscious. Thank God, I don't hurt now!"

He helped her sit up and drink from the bedside cup. It was only then that she noticed her stomach was gone. Where the growing bump had been, there was only a slight convexity. "My baby!" she panicked, "what happened to my baby?"

"It is alright," Sig'dan soothed her, "the pup is fine. It could no longer live inside you. Myn'dill took it and placed it in the womb made from your cells where it will continue to grow normally. It is fine, believe me."

"Can I see it?" she asked, with a scared look still on her face.

"I will take you to see it later, for now you must rest, Healer's orders."

"I felt so much pain…"

"That was your body rejecting the pup. But pups are tough and it survived. Now it will grow to be large and strong, and Mel-an-ee…it is a female!"

"A girl! A little girl…" Melanie slipped back into slumber, still under the influence of medication. Her baby was fine and, knowing that, she could rest.

Sally had insisted on having Melanie's growing pup housed alongside her own so that it could be properly cared for. She still felt occasional twinges of resentment towards the young woman that she had grown fond of, but found it easy to dismiss them as her own insecurity. She was charmed by Sig'dan's excitement that his firstborn would be a female and that he was participating in the saving of the race.

His fetal pup was still very small, and was expected to respond favorably to being in a more normal Yautja environment for the rest of the gestation period as the womb made for her was of a normal Yautja female size – just like the ones for Sally's pups. The High Council had agreed with the Matriarch, offspring from Melanie were worthwhile as the human female had abandoned her family and her planet in order to save her pup. To the Yautja, progeny from such a brave female deserved preservation and propagation.

A few days into recovery from the rescue surgery, Sally and Sig'dan brought Mel to visit her pup. Mel followed everyone's earlier example and nodded in respect to the Matriarch. Normally, Sally wouldn't have tolerated that kind of behavior from a fellow woman, but here on Yaut where everything was different, the Hunters expected Mel to show respect to the High Council ordained Matriarch. As Sig'dan and Melanie conversed, Sally evaluated the pair. She could perceive concern for the female by her mate, but only interest in her child from the human female.

"I'm happy for you both that your daughter could be saved," Sally began.

She was taken aback as the young woman threw her arms around her, hugging and thanking her profusely, "Oh I'm so grateful for you and the Healer and everyone! I am in your debt!"

"You are welcome, Mel," the Matriarch smiled, lightly returning the embrace and finding the last shadowy vestiges of her jealousy beginning to melt away in the light of their maternal bond. "Come, see and touch your baby, I will show you how." She led Mel through the hand cleansing process and over to the large fleshy tissue container in which the woman's child was growing. She explained that this was an organic womb created from Melanie's own cells, just like the ones that housed her pups had been made from her cells. As Mel's pup was female and about the same age as Sally's, due to the long gestation period required when a pup was grown inside a human, they could all be gestated and birthed together. Sally invited Mel to study the pup-rearing training material with her, and Mel replied that she had already been reading some of it.

The next moon of cycles was filled with welcome maternal companionship for the women as they went to visit the pups together daily, occasionally accompanied by Sig'dan. They had much fun trying to figure out the proper names for all of them, and Sally had explained to the young woman how Ulfr's two pups had been named Arndís and Ulfrde.

Sally and Mel studied and considered many names. They obtained input on their choices from Sig'dan, Myn'dill, Theron, the Consort, and even Yin and Yang – until at last the women finally settled on names for their children. Melanie had chosen the name of Signý to honor her pup's Sire which both Sally and Sig'dan found very fitting.

Sally's choosing was a very complicated process as she had to take into account their nine Sires who came from different Clans. She had been working on it for quite some time and had researched names from each of the nine Clans until her final list for the eighteen pups consisted of: Ásvör and Berg-dís, Doru and Phthia, Ixch'el and Xu'nan, Kasa-qa and Pe-batj-ma,Temur and Cha'gan, A'adrika and Char-vi, G'emeti and U'bal-n, Angpet'u and El'u, Tar'ni and Ka-lin'da.

It was now only a single moon until the pups would be ready to leave their capsules and enter the world. Sally could hardly leave them alone, wanting to spend more and more time with them. As she felt them turn and kick within each womb she fancied that they could somehow understand her as they seemingly responded to her voice and touch. When she asked Myn'dill about this he had told her that it was not improbable that they were already responding to her as they could indeed hear her voice and recognize it, and also feel the warmth of her hand through the thin, strong wall.

In the midst of Sally's growing excitement about the impending births, she noticed that Mel had begun to cool in her attitude towards her daughter. She still enjoyed spending time with Sally and Sig'dan sharing meals, and conversing. However, her visits to her pup had become quieter. The Matriarch would watch as Melanie gingerly touched the container and would then look far away as though she were in deep contemplation, and she never spoke to her pup anymore. Then, Sally noticed that Mel was directing conversations to reminiscing about Earth instead of helping to figure out a detail in pup rearing.

"Melanie," the Matriarch asked her one cycle when the women and Sig'dan were visiting the pups, "Is something on your mind? Pardon me for saying so, but you don't seem that interested in your child anymore." Sig'dan spread his jaws in surprise at the question, and looked at Melanie.

Mel considered how to respond, she didn't want to insult anyone. Turning to the Matriarch she asked, "May I speak freely without fear of repercussion?"

"Of course you may," Sally responded.

"On Earth, I spent a great deal of time feeling that I did not want this child, this pup. Becoming pregnant has greatly interfered with my plans, not to speak of the time required to raise it. I didn't want anything bad to happen to it, of course, and that is why I ran away from my family and came back here. But now that the situation has changed, I'm wondering if what I really want is to go home. You have been studying and preparing, Sally, I'm sure you will do a wonderful job of raising them. I have felt a growing unease over seeing to this child. It seems that there are other things that I want to do."

Sally was not surprised, after watching the young woman for some time, she quickly responded, "I would be lying if I said I wasn't upset to hear this. But I appreciate your honesty, Mel. Motherhood isn't for everyone or every time. If you are certain that's what you want, I would be happy to raise the pup that Sig'dan created with you along with my own. I will even adopt it if that is alright with you? And you may come back and visit whenever you like."

"I would like that, Sally. Sig-dan, I hope that I have not offended you."

Sig'dan, looking somewhat befuddled as his mandibles twitched with emotion, replied, "I do not understand you giving up our child, and in purity, your scent does not agree with your words. Please, Mel-an-ee, please tell us what is really in your mind."

Mel looked down in embarrassment. "You can smell me, Sig-dan? I had read about that, but…"

"Yes, we have very sensitive scent receptors. It helps me to scent you – it helps me understand the meaning behind your words. Your previous words and scent did not agree. Your words said you wanted to leave but your scent stated clearly that you were very sad."

"Well, I AM sad about leaving my baby, but I feel this is best. Do whatever you think best for the welfare of the child, please."

Sally had questions for Melanie, "When do you wish to leave? What will you do back on Earth?"

"I'd like to leave as soon as possible. Back on Earth, I want to finish my degree, and then help other women who have been…in this situation. I suspect that many still suffer mental trauma from the experience and I think that maybe I can help them. This may sound funny, but I believe this is my purpose, my calling in life."

Sig'dan looked to Sally, "Honorable Matriarch, may I speak freely?"

"Of course!"

"Mel-an-ee is hiding something. She has not revealed all her concerns to us about her pup, she scents of subterfuge."

Sally stared sternly at the young woman. On one hand that small voice she thought she'd silenced would welcome the removal of any possible competition for her Hunter, while on the other hand she had grown to like the outspoken female and also was concerned as to why she was making this choice.

"Answer me, Melanie, why do you really want to leave? I need to know why."

Abruptly, tears began running down Mel's naturally ruddy cheeks and she sobbed, "Because the baby will be taken away!" She hid her face in her hands, crying in earnest. Sally moved to comfort her, but Sig'dan was already there with an arm around the weeping girl. Sally said nothing, but a chill went down her spine at his obvious affection displayed right in front of her. _I must have a Yautja mind about this, _she chided herself.

"What do you mean, Mel-an-ee?" he asked.

"After it's been born and I've raised it for awhile, it's taken away – I've heard about it from the other women."

Sig'an moved his free hand to stroke the dark curling locks, "Do not be sad, things may be different now."

"They might?" she squeaked, raising the tear-marred face to him.

Sally interjected, "Do you honestly think that I would allow them to take my children, your child, away from us? We are going to continue to play an important part in our daughter's lives, even during their training or there will be hell to pay!"

Mel wiped the tears from her eyes and gave Sally a hopeful look. "Do you think they will really allow that? After all, we're only human."

"And I am their Matriarch! They chose me and by God they will obey me! And the High Council has already given me permission to look into how we mothers may still have contact with our children during training – the trick is that we cannot instill our earthly values in them. They must be raised as Yautja."

Sig'dan stood, taken aback by this news. He knew of the High Council's permission for her to LOOK into this, but that was far from promising that she could see them. His mate was willing to take on the High Council if they did not abide her command regarding her pups? How would the High Elders react to such an order? He constricted inside imagining their unsavory reaction and what they would do to Sally if they ever decided they'd had enough of her.

"Sal'lee – do not push the Council too far! Remember, you govern them only by their consent. They have already taken your eggs, you are not indispensible."

"Oh, but I believe that I am, dearest Hunter," she calmly retorted. "They need me to be the Matriarch until the pups are grown enough so that one of them can assume the title…Myn-dill told me so. And I am willing to leverage that need against my need, and Melanie's need, to continue to be part of the lives of our children as they train."

Sig'dan stayed silent, considering her logic.

"Melanie, will you stay here with me to help me fight for the right to see our pups? For ALL women to see their pups during the training period and afterwards? I cannot guarantee that it will be easy, or without risk, but I am willing to risk for my children."

The still tearful young woman thought for a moment, "I had felt my heart break to leave this child. But I thought that leaving it now would be easier than leaving it later – after meeting and growing to love it even more than I already do. Far better to go to Earth now, when my daughter was still untouched and unkissed than to have it torn away from me. Yes, I will stay and I will fight with you."

Ignoring Sally's presence, Sig'dan touched Mel's face tenderly, "I am happy that you have chosen to stay. Our pup will need you." The woman, full of emotion at her decision, wrapped her arms around what used to be a monster in her eyes and held him close for a few moments while the Matriarch studied something on her wrist com.

As she looked at the mechanism on her arm, Sally came to a sudden decision. "Mel, next cycle, tomorrow I mean, some of us are participating in a very important ceremony. It is a ritual that binds us together in defense of each other and in defense of the pups. I invite you to join us."

"You are scaring me, Sally. We…the pups are in danger?" Melanie's eyes widened and her face looked grim. "I came here to be safe! And now you are telling me we need a ritual to defend each other?"

"Mel, remember that this is not Earth. But like on Earth there are politics and rivalries. We unite to protect our children. Please join us. It would mean much to me if you did," the Matriarch admitted.

Melanie looked at her with furrowed brow. Sally had never requested anything of her before. _This must be very important. I should trust her._ "Okay, I will. Just what is this ritual?"

"I don't exactly know yet," admitted Sally. "I had suggested a ritual that I had previously attended, but it seems there is a more powerful one in Theron's tradition. I am waiting to learn about it. Theron is returning this evening and will explain it. I mean, if his High Elder permits it. It is all dependent on what the High Elder says because I want Theron to join us in this."

"Would you mind sharing why that's important?"

"Theron is one of the best fighters I have ever seen, Mel. And…my gut just tells me it's important. He is assigned to me and he's here most of the time. If anything were to happen I would feel much safer for us and for the children if I knew he was on our side."

In the way of those who know each other very well, Sally looked to Sig'dan for his opinion. "I can support that assessment of Theron, Mel-an-ee. He is a superior fighter and I trust the Matriarch's judgment. It has always led her on the correct path since I have known her."

Melanie shook her head in understanding and agreement. "I have a strong feeling that Theron will return with his Elder's leave to do this. Then we will unite to safeguard our children! I'm glad you are joining us, Mel and try not to be frightened. We have many strong Hunters beside us."

The three stood together on one side of the pup growing room. On impulse Mel took the Matriarch's soft but strong hand in her own firm grasp, and Sig'dan's scaly dinner plate paw in the other. Sally reached for her lover's other huge hand and felt it surround her own protectively. Gazing into his eyes she saw the luster of his deep feelings for her as well as his feelings for his own offspring and for Melanie. She poured her own love and admiration for him out of her own shining green wellsprings. The pups would be born soon into a world of both fate and parental protection. In her mind, Sally prayed for Paya's blessing upon them all.


	11. Truth's Sharp Blade

**Chapter 10: Truth's Sharp Blade**

"_**Education consists mainly of what we have unlearned."**__** – Mark Twain  
**_

A wavering mist covered the floor of the pups' sleeping room. Sally watched in puzzlement as it made its way around their beds, shifting and crawling up the sides of the child-sized sided sleeping platforms. She tried to run toward her defenseless children as terror struck deeply, sending a cold wave of fear to cascade over her body. She could not move! Terror commanded she run to save her children, yet her body would not budge. Every cell strained as she willed her legs to move yet they stayed frozen as a marble statue. She finally found her voice and cried out. What emerged was a hoarse whisper that no one would hear, "Help! Anyone! The pups are in danger!" Expecting to see Yin and Yang bound into the room, she helplessly watched the fog whirl around stalking her young as purposefully as a living thing.

Abruptly she was blinded when a great light shone from a point the room. It was so great, she squinted her eyes in pain. Then it unexpectedly dimmed and collapsed into a great form as the Matriarch reopened her eyes to behold Ulfr in all his muscled glory, standing with weapons drawn in the middle of the room.

"Ulfr!" her mind screamed, "Help them!" The fog coalesced into several dim shapes that sprang into battle with the Elder. He whirled with extended blades at each wrist, slicing and stabbing the ethereal foe. The shapes laughed at him and drew together to pounce. Sally watched him, still slinging his blades, as the gray shifting forms did not jump but rather slid over him, and he slowly sank down into the floor. He stared open-mandibled at her as his rumbling words calmly breached the distance between them, "Sal-lee, they cannot be fought alone…"

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" the soundless word fled her open mouth as she finally found control regained and…sat up in bed. Drenched in sweat and gasping for air she looked around the empty room, realizing she had emerged from a nightmare.

* * *

It was during the time that Melanie and Sally were becoming friends that a greatly displeased Aldúlfr uncharacteristically shifted in his chair as the translator Theron entered the Matriarch's receiving room. He bowed respectfully to her and noticed that Yin and Yang had accompanied him while staying a few paces in back. What was going on? His body automatically tensed and his eyes bounced about the room assessing any danger.

"I welcome your return, Theron, and trust that you had a productive visit aboard your Clanship."

"I did Honorable Matriarch, and give you my gratitude again for allowing me to return for a few cycles."

"I need to ask you an important question, although my Consort has advised me against it. I trust in your honor and your commitment to serve me – even though I know I am still just a human in your eyes."

"You are the Matriarch, as ordained by the High Council. They have requested my service to you, my Elder has ordered it. So…I am here."

"My question is not meant to offend you, Honorable Theron. I have purpose in what I do. Please hear me."

The translator nodded and cocked his head in curiosity. _So much careful preparation just to ask a question?_

"I know that from the Dor'an all other Clans sprang. So you are rightfully proud of your heritage. And you serve me along with Hunters of other Clans such as my guards, Myn-dill, Sig-dan and my Consort. I trust all of you and count on you to protect my pups. Even though your purpose here is to be my translator, Theron, there may be a time when the lives of my pups will be threatened. May I count on you to defend them?"

Theron puffed up to show his importance, "Indeed, Honorable Matriarch. Your pups hold the future of all our Clans. I would lay down my life for them if need be."

Sally nodded her gratitude back. "My life is not quite as important - my fertility has already been secured. However, my Healer tells me that it is important that I remain the Matriarch until one of the pups is old enough to assume the position. In fact, he gives me treatments to extend my life. I am obviously much weaker physically than a Yautja Matriarch – you know this. So I must ask brave Hunter, if I were in danger would you also defend me?"

"Sei, I would, without question! You are the Matriarch and the savior of our race, all Yaut will defend you."

"Good. And what of my guards or my Consort? If there were suddenly attacked by a group that they could not win against – would you aid them?"

Theron was quiet, his mandibles locked tightly against his face. "I cannot pledge that, Honorable Matriarch. They must fend for themselves."

"I need you to act as Hunt Brothers, to have each other's backs. All of you are important to the protection of my pups. I do not know what lies ahead for them in the future – but I have seen enough of the Yautja to realize that as Honorable as your race is - there are Badbloods among you, and those who plot for political gain. I accuse no one, but I must prepare to have my children protected if need be. Do you understand? You and the rest may have to act as a force, a team working together for the benefit of the pups. So, you must all be able to trust each other."

Theron continued to look thoughtful as he considered her words. "You want me to bind myself to them?" His face was as scrunched as the face of a Hunter could be and Sally couldn't decide if he was completely dismayed with the idea or just trying to consider it.

"Matriarch, my clan does not bind with Hunters outside of our own Clan."

"I have researched Theron and I can show you in history where on a few specific times or in special circumstances, Hunters from your Clan have bound themselves to Hunters of other Clans. We are about to witness the rebirth of the Yautja female. Is this not such a time?" She set her fixed gaze upon his gray eyes and held them captive there, waiting for him to respond. "We must unite ourselves for the children, Theron. I believe this with all my heart. I believe this so much, that I will get on my knees and humble myself to you, if that will move you to say yes to my request."

Sally began to bend herself to get down on her knees in front of Theron who was quite amazed at this act and his hand went automatically to the sheath at his side. Aldúlfr was immediately on his feet and beside her, "No, Sal-lee!" his gentle but gruff voice urged her to stop. "Sal-lee…NOOOO," he growled. Sensing the tension, Yin and Yang moved in to stand right behind Theron, alert for any command from their Matriarch.

"Honorable Matriarch," Theron began oddly ill-at-ease, "In my culture, you kneeling to me has a different meaning than I believe you intend. Please stand," Unused to any tone of pleading in his voice, Sally was caught off guard but gracefully stood. After she was on her feet, he explained. "That is the position you would assume if you were requesting me to kill you. It is very simple to drive my blade from your throat down into your heart." Aldúlfr's low threat was beginning to become audible to Sally's limited human hearing, but Theron continued, "It is a quick and merciful death, Honorable Matriarch."

Sally pulled herself together as regally as possible. "That, indeed, would not have been my request of you, Translator. What I AM requesting is that you bond yourself to me and to all in this room for the protection of the pups," she said bluntly. "I have ordered my Consort to extend invitation to a Hunt bonding ceremony, which I also know you use in your Clan."

Disciplined Theron's mottled gray skin nearly blanched at her words, but he held his reaction in check and then relaxed his tension as an idea occurred to him. The bonding ceremony of Hunt Brothers was indeed a Dor'an custom, but it was only effective for the Hunt. What the Matriarch was actually seeking was a much more enduring bond that was unique to his Clan – the Blood Bond. It was also bound to be very painful for a mere human.

Theron gave the slightest of nods in prideful submission to her, "Honorable Matriarch, in my Clan we have a much more significant bond than being merely Hunt Brothers. Let me consult with my High Council Elder and request that I make such a bond with all of you. If I have permission, then I will submit to your order."

The Consort's displeasure was increasing and Sally could still hear his dangerous rumble. Yin and Yang were both on edge, ready to spring on the pompous translator should anyone but give the slightest signal. Sig'dan was also ready to back up his Sire, and even the ever calm Myn'dill was on his feet.

Sally knew that with her slightest indication, her loyal Yautja would take down this haughty Hunter, but that would not serve her purposes. "You have MY permission to consult with your Elder, Theron. Please do so at once and return to me with your answer. You were ordered by your High Council Elder to serve me. I do not take your request to consult with him lightly, and this delay of your obedience will remain in my memory. Go." She stared directly into his murky eyes with all the power she could convey and challenged him with her directness. He met her eyes and did not look away for a moment, yet had to as her order had been for him to leave. Distressingly, that would mean he had to break eye contact first. How cleverly she had led him to this moment of public submission! How wily of her to make his desire her order.

Theron left the room and quickly made his way from the Matriarch's residence feeling not quite as sure of his path. He was followed by the Healer, Myn'dill, who caught up with him, "May we speak, Honorable Theron?"

"My outlook is colored with anger right now, Honorable Healer and I would not wish to offend you," Theron answered honestly as they walked side by side.

"You do not offend me, and I understand your anger. She is intelligent for an ooman is she not?"

The translator would not express agreement, "She is…clever…I did not expect her to use my own words against me."

Myn'dill suppressed his clicks of humor, "Perhaps you will not underestimate her again. May I accompany you to the High Elder? He is an old…acquaintance of mine. In fact I sought you out through his recommendation. I believe he may allow new light to be beamed upon this situation for you."

Theron was quite curious now. What could his Dor'an High Council Elder have to do with this non-Dor'an healer? "If it will help clarify her strange request, and you do not fear being killed on the spot, then come with me."

They walked the rest of the way, without talking, to the Hall of the High Elders where offices and council chambers took up much of the imposing structure. The council was not in session so the pair went to the Dor'an High Elder's office and signaled their presence via the com. The door opened and a bowing aseigan showed them inside. "Wait here, the High Elder will attend you when he has completed what he is doing."

Theron and Myn'dill stood and looked around the room, learning what they could about its occupant. There were many tomes and scrolls installed in niches that had been carved out of the stone walls. The dark walls led upwards to a curved ceiling with a clear domed round in the middle where orange sunlight flooded into the very center of the room and splashed out upon the dark walls. Here and there in between the niches were artistic engravings of mighty Hunters fighting real and mythical honorable prey, or attending statuesque females bedecked with rings, skulls and little else. The artist had been gifted and the portrayals looked as though at any moment they would jump off the wall into the room and continue their action in front of the gawking Hunters.

A muffled noise of footfall brought their attention back to the doorway as the High Elder stood there taking them in. "Myn'dill! We have spoken but it has been far too long since I have scented you!" He reached the duo and gave the Healer's shoulder a hearty shake. "Welcome, my Honorable Bloodline! You are a most welcome sight!"

_Bloodline?_ Stoic Theron was aghast. _Has my hearing deceived me? By what trick of the Gods is the Healer an offspring of the Dor'an High Elder?_ So caught up in his thoughts was the Hunter that he did not realize his maw was agape. The High Elder turned to welcome him and began clicking and chortling at Theron's inability to conceal his astonishment. Grasping the Hunter's shoulder, the High Elder also greeted him, "Welcome Theron! Come, both of you and drink with me. There is much to speak of and certainly Theron deserves a good story, don't you think Myn'dill?"

Around the generous table they sat and raised their flagons to the souls of fearless warriors – 'bhu'ja sain'ja mid-de h'dlak' and tossed down the aged c'ntlip, the Elder's tawny tusks tapped in appreciation as he drank. "Young Theron," he began, let us all pour another and I will begin this tale from my history."

"I was about your age, Myn'dill. Old enough to have been through many hunts and mating seasons, I was a well-trained, deadly warrior – just like Theron. I was on a solo hunt on one of the game planets. My Sire had honored me with the use of his personal hunting craft and I was enjoying tracking my prey with only myself to rely on.

"I was cloaked, observing a fine specimen when I was hit from behind – quite ferociously. Knocked off my feet, I was amazed that something had come up behind me without my knowledge! As I managed to get up and looked around, I saw nothing until I changed my mask setting and there was the large shimmer of another cloaked Hunter. Instantly I sent my challenge, "If we are to dispute which of us hunts this planet then let us be honorable and uncloak, worthy Hunter!"

"The shimmer fled to reveal a tall and unmistakably female figure! She roared her challenge back and immediately positioned herself to strike. Ka! I was indeed the one who was stricken! True, she was not of my Clan, but there was something alluring about her. Her strong scent was divine! And her features, although coarse, were well suited to her. She was a rare one for her Clan - a Huntress. She had come to the game planet alone to hunt in order to distance herself from the rut taking place back on her Clanship. And her skills! I witness that she fought as well or better than a male of her lineage and her stealth was as good as my own! And she was brave enough to challenge me! What male worth his codpiece could resist that?

"Can you imagine Theron? Fighting a female who is in season? We crossed blades and then grappled hand-to-hand, for when I struck her blade from her I threw mine away also. Her skin was hot to my touch and she nearly won our jehdin-jehdin due to my distraction! My devotion to my Clan was broken by the temptation within my grasp. So, in the end I subdued her with speedy skill and she submitted to me. Ka! I would like to portray that she was stricken with want by my magnificence, but in purity she was overcome with her own unsatisfied urges. We rutted for many cycles – she was desperately in need from trying to remain barren in order to continue to hunt. After she was pregnant with our Healer here, we hunted together and took trophies. Then, she left for her Clanship and I for mine.

"It is not an encounter that I wanted anyone to know about. It would have brought not only decay to my reputation, but potential dishonor to my Sire's bloodline. All these long cycles and only I and my offspring Myn'dill and his Bearer knew of it. And now I entrust my secret to you Theron. It was I who recommended you as translator to Myn'dill when he told me of the Matriarch's need. I search out and follow the careers of all talented Warriors in my bloodline.

Theron set down his drink, "I am honored by your attention, my Elder." He lowered his head in submission to his superior and then asked, "Did you ever see her again?"

"Many long cycles later, I saw her again in Yaut's capital city. She took me aside and told me of our pup, Myn'dill and where I could find him. He was not raised as a Dor'an, but he is half our blood, Theron. And I am proud of his accomplishments. In our inward tradition, I chose not to publically claim him. It is enough that we know of our bond."

Theron was striving for how to respond as he closely examined the blackness of his Kainde Amedha skull flagon. The back part of the prey's skull was a natural deep bowl that was put to many functional uses by the Yautja. "I have heard such stories before, Honorable High Elder, yet I did not know if they were true."

"This one is. And what do you think now?"

"I…am surprised to learn that my High Elder has partaken outside of his Clan, and even more surprised to learn he allowed a pup to be born of it," Theron almost hissed out the last part of his sentence and boldly looked the High Elder in the eyes. "I did not expect to find such weakness at such a high level."

As Theron spoke, the High Elder's mandibles spread out to their full extension. Myn'dill readied himself to jump out of the way of his attack on the outspoken Hunter when an explosion of Yautja laughter blasted his ears.

"Theron…you do not know…you have so very little to be haughty about!" he choked out between clicks and rumbles of great amusement. "Myn'dill will do a much more accurate job of telling you about this. Tell him, Honorable Myn'dill. Tell him of the courage of our ancestors!" Another rolling series of clicks and deep trills came from the High Elder. Theron was on his feet, completely offended and ready to either attack the Elder or leave in disgust.

Myn'dill's smoother voice tried to soothe the situation, "Honorable Theron, be seated. There is much truth I have to add to what has already been related. Truth is here if you are able to bear it." The Healer held Theron's eyes in earnest request until the lethally disquieted Warrior finally gave in to curiosity and resumed his seat.

"Theron, pour yourself another drink. You need it to hear this," Myn'dill began. "What I am about to tell you is now known to a very few inside the Dor'an Clan, and only the rest of the High Council and myself outside of the Clan. You must swear your silence to the High Elder before I share this with you. Do you swear?"

Theron considered carefully. With all deliberateness he poured himself another c'ntlip and took a long audible sip between his palate and tongue. The liquid burned his tongue but mellowed as it ran down his throat. "How can I swear to silence on a matter I know nothing about? What if my honor demands otherwise?"

Faster than Myn'dill's eye could follow, the Elder's body flew like a spear across the table. The Healer turned to see Theron's throat being slowly squeezed and tilted forward in forced submission while both hands were held together and skewered by the talons of the massive Elder's paw. "You will swear your silence, or I will guarantee it," the Elder Dor'an growled. "If you live past this moment, you will learn how vain and hollow your self-importance is. Yet you must not tell anyone, for most are not able to abide with this truth. I would bring you into its light only because it is necessary for you to understand so that you will follow your Matriarch's orders that Myn'dill has told me about. The entire Yautja race is at stake and will not be held hostage to your false pride."

Theron was beginning to turn dark with lack of air to breathe and he could not move his hands from beneath the slab of muscle behind the needles that pinned him. The Elder jerked his neck so that he could look upon the muddled face. "Let your eyes tell me if you will submit," he ordered. Slowly, the death grasp was loosened and the bloody green talons pulled from the flesh which freely dripped and ran onto the table. "I believe your audience is prepared, Myn'dill."

"You swear your silence?" Myn'dill asked again.

"Sei…I swear…to tell…no one," Theron was able to choke out.

"Then listen! Recall from the High Elder's story, how he was unable to resist the musk of the Huntress on the game planet? All females from other Clans produce musk much more potent than from the Dor'an Clan. Therefore you see the reason for his strong reaction. In fact Dor'an males are unable to resist the mating musk of ANY female not of their Clan. This is why you and your brothers are restricted to mating within Dor'an. Outside of the Clan you become helpless around any rutting female, weak to her allure with no thought as to her worthiness as the Bearer of your pup. To cover this weakness, your Ancients invented the idea that you are racially purer than the other Clans and ruled that you would only mate within Dor'an. Yet, indeed you are the first of the Clans from which all others sprang. So, just why are all Dor'an males afflicted with this weakness? Why did the Dor'an females produce such weak scent? And why do you all look so different from the rest of us?

"Settle and drink young Warrior. Open your mind to what has been hidden. Hidden out of shame…listen to the adventures of the cycles of so long ago - when we were yet a single Clan without Clanships. We all lived on the surface of Yaut…"

The crew of the returning science vessel was celebrating success. The native predators, that they had blended their genes with, had successfully bred and their offspring were larger, stronger, smarter and amazingly deadly. They quickly ascended the ranks in the family groups they had been born into and then conquered nearby families. As they vanquished foes they acquired the defeated's mates and territory. After killing any existing offspring and beating the pregnant females until they aborted, they rutted and filled the home territory with their own Blood Line.

One of the scientists raised his tankard in victory and they all joined him in a drink to nain-desintje-de, the pure win. After his liquid success had been quaffed, he made a thoughtful comment, "This was indeed a win for our research. However, as impressed as I am with the strength of the hybrids, I am dismayed at their ruthlessness. These new creatures have no law and no honor. They destroy anything in their way in any manner they can, intent on only procuring more mates, more offspring, and greater territory. They are only for themselves, not for their race. This has been a valuable experiment, but if this intelligent creature is allowed to continue it will soon dominate its planet and perhaps present a future threat to ourselves!"

The other scientists to a Hunter agreed. One offered, "Let us open the planet to Hunters and eliminate this risk, while also providing great sport. It will require some of our best Hunters to bring these creatures down. The females are as great a sport as the males - we will open both sexes to hunting. Surely the Hunters can claim no dishonor in hunting females as aggressively strong as these?" The others agreed, so the call to Yaut was made and soon the fleet Hunt transports came bringing many troupes of three. A few fleet smaller ships brought brave solo Hunters. True to the scientists' promise, the prey was intelligent, strong and brave – truly an honor to take trophies from. The Hunter's enjoyed their victories but mourned that they were taking the last of this species.

The adult males and just as formidable females were hunted until only the pups were left. "What shall we do with them?" some of the Hunters' inquired of the scientists. "It would not be honorable to kill them, they are only pups."

One of the scientists ventured a solution, "Let us take the pups to Yaut. There we will raise them to adulthood without permitting them to breed. Then we will release them on a preserve and allow another Hunt." This brilliance was greeted heartily by the Hunters, and the other scientists agreed. So the young were taken back to the Homeworld.

Myn'dill stopped to take a breath and refresh his mouth with a drink before continuing, "There they were raised and then flown to be released to a hunting planet, just as the scientist had suggested. The number of Hunters who demanded to hunt them was so great that a great spar was held on Yaut, with the winners obtaining the right to hunt the hybrids.

"When the last unbred hybrid became a trophy, the scientists clicked relief that their experiment would not return to haunt them or their progeny. But, unknown to any, one of the scientists kept genetic material from some of the hybrids and placed it in stasis – in case there was some need for it in the future.

"The samples were put into storage and forgotten for a long, long time. When they were finally remembered, it was a new time when the Yautja were attempting to improve the race. At first, the improvement had been through selective breeding, weeding out of the weak, proper training, diet – all the things you are familiar with now. But some scientists in the Clan, and remember there was only one in those times, decided to experiment with the basic instructions, the genetics of the Clan. They worked until they were able to decipher the genetic instructions that rule us all. At first, they used this to detect any abnormality or undesired trait within the unborn. Such fetuses could easily be eliminated from the female's body and she was soon free to try again. Then, researchers discovered how to splice instructions from one creature to another.

"So it was not long before attempts were made to make 'improvements' to our kind. Specific instructions from the genes of other species were inserted and joined with our own in attempts to make us stronger, faster, improve our senses – whatever could be imagined. The hybrid genetic material was retrieved from stasis, found to be still good and spliced with our own. The results of this experimentation were sometimes amazing, sometimes beyond horrible. Many fetal pups were destroyed as the 'improvement' turned into an abomination of abnormality. Sometimes the problem did not show until the pup was older, or about to enter breeding age. The disposing of experimental adults and newborn pups did not sit well with the Elders. They questioned the honor of these trials. How could there be a shortcut to strength, stamina and all the other qualities of a Hunter? These things had traditionally been brought out in the individual and then the race by good natural breeding, raising and training. Some grumbled that this was an attempt to 'play Paya' and would only be rewarded with difficulty.

"As experiments with the hybrid traits continued, new Hunter arose, not just a Hunter but a Warrior. Physically, although he was not as tall or large as other Hunters, he moved almost faster than the eye could witness! He was tougher, smarter and braver than any other on Yaut. He was the product of the hybrid splice with our own material, and he was as a living Cetanu. None could best him in the arena, none could take the trophies that he took. All the females fought each other for him and on each of his pups he imprinted his qualities. Before long our race was threatened by a change within that some feared and some loathed. Because you see, this new Warrior was without honor. He took what he wanted and none could stop him.

"In an effort to contain his pups they were taken away from their Bearers at a younger age than most, and put through the harshest training in order to obtain their obedience and respect. Even he could see the advantage of this method. Thinking himself much better than other Hunters of Yaut, he took his Bearers and pups away to another place and there they made their own Clan. They forbid their offspring to mate outside the Clan, fearing dilution of their horrible genes.

"After they departed there was much infighting. The group left here in this city split into five Clans at first, and then into the Eight you know now. They forbid their members to mate with the first Clan that had moved away – Clan Dor'an after their founder – the spliced hybrid Dor-u's. The Clans he left behind warred with each other until the High Council was formed and the great peace you know now encompassed Yaut. Genetic splicing was outlawed, and over time genetic aberrations were absorbed into the general populace and do not now commonly appear.

"Sometimes, a Hunter and a Bearer will have recessive genes that will pair up in their offspring and something different can be found in their pup – things such as an odd color like pure white, or a pup that has oddly superior vision. Sometimes, the superstitious among us will to this day consider the pup an abomination and have it killed or placed with the aseigan. Different Clans have handled this in different ways.

"The thing to realize in my tale is that the reason that the Dor'an were ruthless and without honor in those days, and the reason they look different from the rest of this to this cycle is due to the prey whose genes are now part of their own. Those genes came from oomans, Theron…oomans.

"The very ones you will not defile your 'pure' blood with, are the ones responsible for the creation of your Clan. They are also the reason that your pups must undergo such harsh training to ensure their submission to law and honor. In their heart, oomans are ruthless and lawless. Even they know this – hence their abundance of laws, social mores and religious rules."

Theron sat looking down at the floor, his whole world turned upside down by the diatribe of Myn'dill. He would have yelled that it was false and throttled the Healer to death, except that the Dor'an High Elder respected the truth of this story. Finally he looked at his High Elder, "Why? Why is this truth kept secret?"

"Because there are many who could not abide it, young Warrior. It would disrupt the Clan and cause chaos. What benefit would it accomplish?"

"But…we go on thinking we are purer and better!"

"Well, we are purer," he chortled. "Purer hybrid! And we do excel in many ways, do we not?"

Theron considered and then answered, "Sei, I suppose so. It is a large shock to learn this. I must take time to consider all your words, Honorable Myn'dill."

"Do so!" The Elder ordered, "And then see if you can look upon the Matriarch's request with favor. She expects an answer after next sunrise!"


	12. Me Tar'zan, you hang on!

**Chapter 11: Me Tar'zan, you hang on!**

"_**It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change." – Charles Darwin**_

Duncan watched as the Healer finished his scans and left the room, his heavy thudding footsteps making no effort to quiet themselves. She had been amazed when she first watched the cloaked Hunters while she stood near her patrol car and had heard no footsteps to go with their invisible shimmer of movement. She was now left wondering, in spite of her fear, how such large creatures could be so stealthy.

She had known immediately what the blurry reflections were as they carried the captured woman away. Yet her commitment to serve and protect constrained her to stop the vehicle and try to save the citizen that was being kidnapped. She had radioed for backup but there was no time to wait for it to arrive. Her conscience would not allow her to merely sit and watch another person in danger. So bravely, or stupidly, she left her car, drew her weapon and ran toward the glimmer of reflections.

When the leader had uncloaked to face her, a decisive survival instinct within her psyche had known what to do. There was no question that she would not fight him. Death by Hunter was not her chosen destiny, so she dropped the sidearm and did what she could short of ripping off her shirt to demonstrate that she was female. In fact, she would have sacrificed the dignity of her top if he had still seemed indecisive.

She had been badly frightened, but knew that his kind would show no mercy to fear. She also knew, as he carried her away, that her womb was the only thing that had prevented her death. She prayed that she had made the right decision in choosing to survive. The Hunter's weapon would have at least been quick.

The officer assumed that the craft had taken off, as she had awakened to the crush of acceleration as it pressed her into the cold smooth surface she was laying on. Several women shrieked in fear as the gravity force continued to mount. Then suddenly it was over, and the large doctor-type examining them was resuming his business. The officer hoped that whatever he had been checking for had resulted in a positive report for their future. No telling what would happen if the medical guy decided that one of them was undesirable.

A few sobs from the other women could be heard. She'd better speak now while he was gone, for it might not be long before one of them came back. She mustered her voice, "Listen! You need to be calm. No crying! These aliens respect strength not weakness. Stay strong and do not let them see you afraid! Do what I say and you will live through this!"

Just as the last word was leaving her lips, she began to hear the thumps of many footsteps outside the room. The many feet came clumping along much more quickly than the one who had just left them. They were coming and from the commotion the officer began to worry just how many there were. They were almost here and Duncan had a fair idea of what they were going to do. One-on-one she might survive, but a gang bang?

The band holding her neck to the hard metal beneath her was so tight that when she swallowed she felt the movement of her throat press against it. She fought her imagination when it told her that the noose was tightening. _If it were getting tighter I wouldn't be able to swallow. Steady Duncan, don't lose it. You will survive this. You will do what is necessary to live. The others are looking to you to set the example. _She fought the fear, remembering something from a story she once read, 'Fear is the mind-killer." Sour bile came up her throat and she choked it back down while trying to stop the tremors that had taken over her body. _Lord, have mercy on us! Somehow allow us to leave our bodies while this is happening! _

Kash'ta had all he could do to steady his hormone-driven crew as the Healer made his checks of the females. Indeed, it was difficult to rein his own excitement in! Perhaps they needed something else to focus on he decided and ordered them to depart and place the ship back into the previously hidden orbital position behind the communication satellite. His second paused briefly after being given the order. _I will replace him if his insubordination continues,_ he promised himself. The rest jumped to their stations and soon the ship was through the lower atmosphere and tucked-in behind the large cubic artificial device with its darkly shiny, outstretched, rectangular wings. They were again hidden from detection by the oomans and relaxed at their stations.

Once the Leader was certain that the ship was securely in orbit, he gave instruction to his Hunters. "Come with me, all of you. The Healer will inject each female to secure her readiness. Remember Brothers, these are ooman females and fragile. You must prepare them and wait until they are ready. Do not break them! If you damage one's ability to function or reproduce, the punishment will be severe. Do you understand?"

He stood blocking the doorway with one vast arm, glaring at his crew. "Sei," they grunted in unison.

"You will each go to the female that you procured on the planet. It matters not where you decide to rut, this is a small ship. Kylfa, stay! I would speak with you before you take your female."

Duncan had heard the clicking, trilling and growling language but could not turn her head to see how many there were or what was going on. She waited, her heart pounding in her chest, as several Hunters clumped by her. She heard the click of some of the metal restraints being loosened and the whimper of one of the women. "Steady!" she said loudly, "Don't look them in the eye, and be cooperative." Unknown to Duncan the neck restraints were being removed so the Healer could administer the sedistim directly into their necks.

Kash'ta looked at his female, realizing she was giving guidance to the others. _Good, if they follow her order this will proceed much more easily. _Turning to the younger Hunter, he placed his hand on Kylfa's sturdy shoulder in a brotherly manner, "Honorable Kylfa, I know that you have not rutted before. Have you at least studied?"

"Kylfa looked down in embarrassment, "No Brother. My Sire would not permit it until I had his approval. As you know, he had medication for me to suppress my needs. I have not taken it since I left his dwelling for the last time."

"I am concerned that in your eagerness you will injure your mate, would you consider watching how I deal with mine in order to learn how not to harm yours?"

"I am honored that you have such consideration for me, Honorable Kash'ta!"

Kylfa followed his leader to where Duncan was trussed to a metal table. He looked around to see that all of the others were removing their codpieces and cloths. Apparently no one was going to take their female back to the communal quarters or anywhere else on the small ship. That was certainly to his advantage, he concluded, as he would be able to observe many couplings, not just this one.

Kash'ta removed his female's metal neck restraint. He palmed her head, grasping her auburn hair with his great taloned fingers. She did not make any noise or try to fight, but held quite still as the Healer injected her tilted neck. Her eyes remained closed as the drug coursed through her system.

Duncan felt a sting when the medication entered her external jugular vein, and then warmth began to spread from her lower abdomen throughout her body. She held her eyes closed during the injection and afterwards as the effects began to take hold. She felt almost dizzy and the room was much too warm now. Then to her horror, a great sexual need began to form in her mind and her body responded as her lips grew pinker and the beginnings of desire rubbed at her juncture. The relaxant took over, allowing the great need overcame any ideas of disgust or fear. The only feelings were total relaxation and relief from any negative thoughts accompanied by the most powerful carnal want that Duncan had ever experienced. She felt juicy and ripe for the plucking without care for who the plucker would be.

The huge Hunter saw her body release its taut defensiveness and transform into pliant soft flesh begging for his attentions. He released the rest of her bonds and proceeded to slice the clothing from her body in order to reveal the now begging parts. He held his face near and huffed in her pleading scent that supplicated his body to plunder hers. Giant hands dragged down the length of her body, roughly stimulating the round breasts and their now erect rosy nubs.

Duncan's breasts felt on fire as the coarse scaly hands pulled her smooth softness along with them. She felt a hand drag onto her belly and press slightly into her, massaging in a soft slow round. Both hands dragged onto her thighs and yanked her body toward them until her legs were off the table, then decisively pulled them apart. She finally opened her eyes to focus on the complete physicality of the giant standing between her open legs, centering her vision on the swollen genitalia that was throbbing at her. The giant held the shaft and pressed it to her, rubbing into the moisture her traitorous body had already produced. He turned and rumbled something to the other standing beside him who watched her with such deep-set yellow eyes.

"Do you see how I have stimulated her to ensure her readiness, Kylfa? I know you scent her readiness, but also observe the moisture here," he moved a knuckle to the seam between her labia. "This signals that you may enter her. This female has been mated previously but only by her own kind. Remember to go slowly at this point and allow her to adapt to your larger girth. And be sure to only penetrate as far as you may easily go. More than that will injure or even kill your female. Understand?"

Young Kylfa grunted his wide-eyed comprehension and glanced about the room. Several of the crew were already engaged in rapid-fire rut. Groans and grunts were beginning to fill the space along with the whining mewls of the drugged females. All of a sudden, one of the women cried out harshly in a high-pitched agonized sound. Kash'ta growled to the Healer who reluctantly left his intended and was immediately at the site of the distressed cry. Kylfa saw him bash the Hunter away and as he fell the withdrawn organ revealed its red shaft, coated with the life fluid of the crying ooman female.

Duncan felt her possessor withdraw his coaxing hand and blearily watched as he speedily crossed the room to where another giant was getting up from the floor. Her giant spread his face and a room-jarring roar encompassed everything. The other dared roar back and was squarely hit in the face several times until the green glowing gunk she knew was blood was spilling from between his pointed teeth.

"Healer, is the female hurt?" an enraged Kash'ta growled out. Several of his Second's fangs had been loosened, and blood dripped from his maw onto the floor.

"She is badly bruised internally. The neck like protrusion that is the entrance to her womb has been damaged. She was not completely ready before he entered. She needs medication and rest, then I will see how the injury has left her. Such an unschooled pup! Was this your first time?" the Healer snarled at the bleeding Hunter.

"H'ko," he barked back, his verdant spittle trailing down his chin. "I was…too eager. It has been a long time."

"Go to your quarters!" Kash'ta ordered. "Your lack of restraint has cost you this mating, and possibly more! I will deal with you later!"

The now angry Second-in-command left and an irritated Kash'ta returned to his task. "I hope you learn from this, Kylfa."

"I have, Honorable Leader!" Kylfa watched as his mentor restimulated the female to ensure her readiness, and then carefully turned her over so that her posterior hung on the table in front of them.

"You may rut from either side - front or back," the Leader instructed the fascinated Hunter.

Duncan made a soft 'uh' sound as she was placed on her front with her legs hanging helplessly over the table's edge. She felt her hipbones bounced on the hard top edge and dimly thought, _that's gonna leave a mark. _Soon she felt the soft-hard head press and then begin to rub up and down against her before it entered with a shove. She responded by bracing her body for the next shove, and the next and the next.

With the sedistim helping her to relax, the sizeable phallus moved into her without protest, even though it was the largest natural or manufactured device that had ever penetrated the officer's femininity. Her artificial arousal had been overridden somewhat by the shear amazement that such an instrument had indeed been taken in by her body. _My God, he's stretched me to the limit, _she thought _any more and I'm gonna tear. _She waited for the expected injury but it did not come. Grateful for the lack of pain she sunk into the relaxant and waited out the inevitable.

Kylfa watched closely as his Leader began the rocking rhythm that would allow his seed to impregnate the female. He saw how the minor push was not strained or forced into the ooman's body, and the pull was just a small movement at first. As the female seemed to accept this motion, Kash'ta increased the size of the rocking until he was nearly exiting before he smoothly made his way back in. When this activity caused the female no distress, he then methodically increased the speed watching for any indication of discomfort.

To have such fullness move in and out of her soon became overwhelming for Duncan. She had not intended to enjoy this, but her body had other ideas. She found herself moaning with every movement as she began to clench down upon delightful strength, and without further thought gave herself over to unparalleled pleasure.

Kylfa again glanced about. The injured female had been given additional sedation and was sleeping on her platform, the Healer would see to her after his rut. Looking over at the Healer, Kylfa witnessed his female on her backside with legs splayed out and knees hooked over the Healer's foreams. He drove into her with surprising force as at the same time he pulled her body to him. He spread his mandibles and gave a long loud roar while he seeded his future generation into the willing woman who was gasping and making odd cries. She held very still as though surprised when he bent forward to seize her shoulder with his tusks, then just as quickly released her and rested leaning carefully over her body.

Then Kylfa saw the Healer withdraw the still erect organ from her, glistening with their mixed fluids. He suppressed a chortle when he realized the mechanics allowing the hammering rut he had just witnessed – the Healer was not greatly endowed by Paya. What he had in width, he lacked in length. _The advantage being he can rut as fast and deep as he desires with no thought of harming his Bearer, _reasoned Kylfa. _Not a disadvantage in this situation as we do not mate our own kind._

_I am half ooman! _Kylfa quickly caught his mental blunder and recited the Leader's words to himself. _We are not Yautja, nor are we ooman. We are both! When at last there are hybrid females, we WILL mate with our own kind!_ He turned his attention back to the sweating, grunting Hunter in front of him who was raising his head and about to splay his face in ecstasy. Kylfa felt pumped and primed to attend to his own female.

If Officer Duncan had been in her right mind, she would have been embarrassed and appalled. She was fortunately not in her right mind and so did not pass judgment on the whining emitted as she was now completely drowning in the experience. Her skin glowed with perspiration as she moved herself onto the huge phallus in deliberate teamwork with its two-dimensional dance. New arousal suddenly grasped her and fresh moisture seeped to ease the tension between fine scales and soft mucosa. The first wave of release broke from her and rapidly overtook her senses as the universe turned into the clasping of pleasure upon the pressing, moving god of all that was hard and holy.

Their mutual apex was crowned by the blast that ripped through the tail end of the ship. The deafening explosion and blinding flare were chorused by the blare of emergency bleats and lights coming from the vessel's systems. The crew immediately responded and rushed to the helm, leaving the unbound and still drugged females behind in order to save their transport.

The situation was grim. A missile had been fired from the planet below and had disintegrated the aft of the ship. Kash'ta had no time to figure how they had been spotted. He ordered several doorways sealed to prevent any more atmosphere loss but there was no way to handle the metal beast that had now been knocked away from the satellite by the explosion. The Yautja bird tumbled end over broken end as it rounded the globe in a disintegrating orbit. They were going down, and there was nothing to be done about it.

"Are the drop ships intact?" Kash'ta asked of his Second who had rushed from his quarters when the disaster struck.

"Sei! Some are"

"How many?"

"There are enough for each of us."

"Each of us and our females," Kash'ta reprimanded. "The oomans are small. We can each carry ours inside. We must chance they will survive the drop if we hold them. If they are allowed to stand as we do, their small legs will break on impact. Perhaps our legs and body will absorb enough of the shock to keep them intact."

"How will we balance ourselves for landing if we carry them?" asked the second.

"Only with the strength of our legs and our center. Our arms must support and protect them. Do you fear getting bounced around a bit?" Kash'ta said sarcastically.

"I fear nothing," the Second growled back.

The Hunters hurried back to the room where their females still laid as the sedistim was beginning to wear off. Seizing them, they rushed to the drop ships and stood inside as the doors automatically closed and the ship's computer took over the timing for proper firing and trajectory. The ship would also decide on the landing site by searching its database of the Blue Planet and factoids regarding each coordinates' suitability to sustain Hunters while providing avoidance of detection.

Duncan clutched at her Hunter as he carried her into the claustrophobic cylinder. It was obvious that the spaceship was in serious trouble and these were apparently some sort of lifeboats for emergency escape. She had no clue that these were the normal ship to surface transports used on a hunt.

The transport's drop bays opened and five tubular drop ships fell out, one at a time, and then shushed to life as their rudimentary guidance mechanisms became operational. The pods hurtled downward with only slight hindrance from onboard retro thrusters to keep the speed slow enough to survive. Inside each of the tubes stood a Yautja Hunter, naked from the waist down, holding a terrified human female as his legs bent in anticipation of the jolt to come.

Kash'ta stood ready on the balls of his feet with his legs spread wide so that the outsides banked the ship walls. Thus crouched he tried to focus on his center, intending to maintain his balance and avoid crushing his female during the abrupt stop. He noticed that she seemed fairly alert and held to him firmly but without tension in her body. She was trying to stay loose and trust in his ability to balance them both. Any stiffness from her would make his job that much more difficult.

Strong arms cradled her inside the tube and Duncan felt the Hunter position himself. Willing herself to relax she tried to give herself over to the last of the wearing-off sedation. She knew the Yautja were incredibly tough, and regularly used these craft that sent them hurdling to the Earth below at blistering speeds too fast for any human to survive the landing. The ship's needle-nose would plough into snow, ice, dirt, gravel – anything short of bedrock.

Duncan's stomach tried to exit through her throat as she felt the little ship drop out of the transport craft. She was weightless, but the Hunter held on to her. She didn't know what was keeping his feet on the floor. It was as though the world's highest rollercoaster had begun its highest drop except that it seemed to go on forever. She couldn't help but tense her body as she waited to hit something. A soft rumble reached her ear, "Relax, ooman. I keep you safe."

She felt the tube rattle as it hit the first layers of atmosphere and the g-forces that had become palpable began a rapid, uncomfortable increase as she felt melded to the Yautja's arms and chest. The tube vibrated rapidly as she tried to control her fear. _They use these ships all the time. They are designed for this kind of entry. _

The group of tubes went plummeting down to the surface, tracked by human radar until they became too close to the ground to register. The ships were coming down in a cluster, so it would not be difficult to ascertain where they had landed by continuing their trajectory to ground level. Then, special-forces teams could be sent in to deal with them.

Technically, they were supposed to contact the Yautja regarding any unknown ships, but this one had been hiding behind a satellite. It had not identified itself to Earth for direction on where to land, in fact no one had witnessed it first approach to or subsequent leaving of the planet. It had only been spotted as an odd shadow that added an unknown shape to an orbiting communications satellite and triggered an automatic security alert. Pictures had been taken and studied until it was realized that the tail of a Yautja ship was projecting from one end. Whoever had positioned the ship had been a little careless. This anomaly was not lost on the human analysts. The Hunters were not known for any lack of attention to detail. Whoever was piloting this ship was either inexperienced or perhaps unwell. To the humans this signaled either very young Hunters or Badbloods, or both. The humans' leaders met to discuss whether to alert the Yautja to this situation, or deal with the Hunters themselves. Dominated Earth was ever on guard for any opportunity to rebel, no matter how small, and give their conquerors a reminder that humans were still formidable.

One by one, the drop ships hit the beach at an angle sending great sprays of pale sand into the night air. The cratering impacts jarred the crabs and lizards on the beach sending them scuttling towards the sea or the nearby forest of trees. The ejected sand settled around the edge of each crater and beyond, as steam arose from the hot metal buried in the wet sand.

The hatch on the side of each tube gave a small whoosh as it opened, the moonshine illuminating great dark shapes slowly emerging, many of them carrying smaller figures which did not appear to move.

Kash'ta set Duncan on her feet. She still hung on him ensuring her balance. The landing had nearly jarred her fillings loose, in spite of the Hunter's legs taking the brunt of the blow for her. He had masterfully kept his balance in the tilted ship until just after the impact when he fell backward and she heard the smack of his shoulder blades as the back of his lock-cushioned cranium hit the hard metal side. She involuntarily cringed for him, but he used his elbows to push off from the wall and shook his head a bit. Then, he carried her from the ship.

She knew they must have landed back on Earth. The ship had gone down soon after take-off, she did not believe enough time had elapsed for them to be anywhere else, but she was not completely certain. Looking out over the dark waves she saw the familiar shadows on the face of the nearly full moon and couldn't hide her joy. It filled her with relief to be back on the old familiar terra firma. But where? Where on Earth were they? She looked the other way and saw only a narrow strip of beach with a sudden stop at the base of very strange looking small trees. The moon was familiar, but the trees looked alien. They had great thin root systems which started high up on their trunks and then arched down into the sand below. And there were so many of them! The forest appeared so thick that it seemed impenetrable.

The large Hunter looked down at her and saw she was looking around, did she know this place? He gave a grunt to gain her attention. "Come" he ordered her. He needed to go check on his crew and their females, and she might be of some help. He was grateful when she fell in behind him and did not protest or run.

He went first to the Healer who was scanning his female for any injury. Finding none he turned to his Leader, "I will see to the others immediately." He made for the others, scanner in hand. Kash'ta and his mate followed him with the Healer's mate falling in with Duncan.

Duncan felt a small hand grasp at her arm. She smiled at the woman walking beside her and took stock. The Healer's mate was a thin young woman with long blonde braided hair. She whispered to Duncan, "Thanks for helping us. I'm …"

Both Hunters whirled on the women and opened their mandibles in ominous threat. The women stopped cold in their tracks and Duncan grabbed her new friend's hand. Turning quickly to the woman, she held a finger to her lips. The blonde nodded in understanding and the party continued in silence.

All of the Hunters had emerged unscathed from the landings, but the same could not be said for their mates. One was nursing a large bump on her forehead received when her Hunter had lost balance and crashed her head into the ship side. Fortunately, he had not had his full weight behind the impact. She was bruised and had a headache, but it would easily heal.

The Second's female was laid out unconscious on the sand. Her Hunter stood over her, poking with a finger trying to rouse her. The Healer ran his scans beginning with her injured abdominal area then ran up to her head. "Her skull is fractured," he pronounced sadly, "she will not live. There is bruising and bleeding inside her head."

Kash'ta growled out to the Hunter, "What happened?" He stood challenging his Second with narrowed eyes. The Second was a young but mature Hunter, he should have been able to keep good balance during the landing. "Tell me what happened," Kash'ta growled again, "on your Honor."

The Second looked down at the still woman, only her declining warmth and the slight rise and fall of her chest betraying life. He looked up, growling back at his Leader. "The landing was rough, I was jostled and she must have hit her head."

"Does her condition support this, Healer?" the Leader asked, never taking his eyes from their target.

The Healer reset something and scanned again. "It does, Honorable Kash'ta. Her injuries are consistent with his story."

The Second clicked his distaste in having his word questioned by the Leader. A gap of trust was opening up between them. He knew that eventually he would have to leave, or challenge Kash'ta for leadership of the new Clan.

The Healer removed something from his kit, "Do you want her suffering ended?"

"Sei, then dissolve the body."

While the Hunters were talking, Duncan and the blonde bent over the comatose woman. Duncan saw she was breathing and felt for the carotid pulse. She saw the matted blood in the scalp and gingerly began feeling around with her fingers. Minute movement of the skull bones greeted her inspection. "She is in bad shape," Duncan pronounced to the blonde woman. They both stood and turned to the Yautja who were still conversing while the Healer fumbled in a bag for something.

"Come!" barked Kash'ta to Duncan.

She looked at him with questioning eyes, "Can you help her?"

"No," he grunted, "Come!"

"Can't or won't?" she boldly questioned.

The Hunter cocked his head slightly, trying to figure out what she had said.

Duncan repeated her request slowly, "Can not or will not?"

_Here is a brave one,_ he thought. "Can not. Come! Now!" He pulled her along by her arm, leaving the Healer and the blonde to send the injured woman on her cosmic way. Duncan worked hard to keep up with the Hunter and after a few yards of walking heard sobbing behind her. The group was now short a female. She wondered if they would try to procure another or if there would be competition among the males for the remaining ones.

Soon the party had gathered together, the dead female had been disposed of and they were ready to set out. It was a strange scene, mostly nude Hunters and bare human females making their way along the sand in the black of night. They were not far away when a strange hissing electrical noise caused Duncan to turn and look behind her. The drop ships were surrounded by strange blue liquid electricity that snapped and crackled around them. All of a sudden, the blue light shrunk in on itself taking the ships with it and went into nothingness. An impatient tug at her arm made her turn around and resume her place behind the Hunter as he set out following the beach.

Soon they came to a place where a river parted the short branchy trees and dumped itself into the sea. The sun was not up, but light was beginning to illuminate the density of the trees. The Hunters went to the river and one took a sample of the water in his hand and ran his wrist com over it. He growled and let the salt water spill from his palm. The ocean mixed with the river at this point. It would be some ways upstream before it was completely fresh. Without a word, the Yautja plunged into the forest growing along the riverbed, wading in the shallow water there. They agilely worked around the cobweb of prominent roots as their human partners tried to negotiate the wooden obstacles. As they trudged along, taller trees began to show up buttressed by larger root systems that the women had to wiggle themselves through. It soon became obvious that the females couldn't keep up.

With a grunt from Kash'ta each Hunter was about to grab his mate and swing her up onto his back when the Second was pulled off-balance down into the water. He let out an earsplitting bellow of surprise and pain as his body was rolled over and over in the river. Then a high-pitched scream cut the air like a knife and all turned in its direction. Thrashing water was all that was evident of one of the females. The remaining Hunters grabbed their females and took to the safety of the trees, then looked down at the battle scene below.

The water was teeming with saltwater crocodiles. Several were feasting upon the downed woman, but the Second was giving a large one a valiant fight. It had him by the lower leg and was trying to drag him into deeper water to drown. The Hunter had bent forward and was plunging a blade into the reptile's brain case. It took a mighty blow as the bone was thick and strong. The point went home and the eighteen foot, thousand pound monster released his nearly severed leg. He tried to limp towards the group as the other crocs turned on the dead one, but there were many opportunistic mouths that scented the blood perfume drifting through the estuary. The Second was soon entangled with another set of steel trap jaws that crushed the knee of his already injured leg. He stabbed at the head connecting the point of his blow with the brain and providing yet another feast for the churning waters.

Bleeding profusely and in immense pain, the Hunter turned to meet other oncoming predators. He met them blade to tooth as using his shoulder cannon would have been dishonorable. Within minutes, four more crocodiles drifted lifelessly as their bodies were torn at by the living. All predators now seemed focused on eating their dead, so the Second dragged his wounded body to the nearest tree and pulled himself up using only upper body strength. On a thick branch he rested, dripping the essence of his life down the bark and into the water.

Kash'ta considered the situation. The Hunter had fought honorably and bravely, but he was seriously injured. He was also on the other side of the river mouth from the rest of the party. The river was too wide to swing from any branch and obtain the other side. The Second was on his own, without benefit of the Healer. He had his personal med kit, and could at least cauterize his wounds.

Kash'ta called to him, "Stop your wounds, rest and recover. We leave a trail for you to follow us for three cycles." The Hunter nodded in understanding. He had three Earth days to heal and catch up with them. After that, there would be no trail to follow.

The Hunters turned their backs to the remaining females and squatted. The females looked baffled until Duncan yelled to them, "Mount up! They are going to carry us." Soon the women were all riding piggyback style on fierce Yautja males who clambered branch to branch through the trees. The lone riderless male took point for the group as they now made better time through the dense forest. Duncan had fairly long legs, so the position was not too uncomfortable for her. She pitied the short-legged women among them as the backs they were pressed to were broad and none of them were long enough in the torso to hook their legs around the Hunters' waists. After a time, even her legs ached and she grumbled to her steed, "Can we take a break?"

The large black-rope decorated head turned back a bit to her in silent question. "Stop?" she asked. The man-lizard immediately came to a halt and let her slide down his back onto a limb. Her legs ached and were nearly frozen in position. She hung on to him for balance and moved each one as she tried to recover.

The other Hunters also stopped and released their riders who were in the same state as Duncan. She spoke to the others, "Does anybody besides me need to pee?" Several raised their hands. She turned to Kash'ta and said, "We need to pee, please stay here." Then turned and began to climb away followed by the others. A low growl stopped her. Turning back to Kash'ta with an exasperated look on her face, she realized he didn't understand. "Sorry girls, we gotta drop trow right here."

With a smirk on her face for her Hunter, she faced him and dramatically unfastened her pants. She pulled them down still clinging to a branch, followed by her underwear and then squatted being careful to pull her clothing out in front away from the rampant stream that was emerging. The others followed her actions and soon the group of Yautja was engaged in watching bare-bottomed human women pee thunderous streams to the forest floor below. The ladies arose and returned their clothing to proper placement with as much dignity as possible.

Kash'ta growled out orders to his Clan then turned to Duncan. "Rest now. You tell others." She did as she was told and then found the Hunter's huge arm around her as she was carried even higher up into the very large tree. She was surprised at his first leap and nearly yelped but caught herself and tried to relax and let herself be toted. He stopped at a sturdy wide crotch and placed her on the limb, ordering her to stay.

_And where would I go from here?_ She rested in the tree looking out trying to see any of the others through the thick canopy. Her Hunter soon returned pulling her up to his body again and, to her horror, leaped from the tree to another one. He caught himself effortlessly on the target branch and climbed out to where he had prepared a strong nest woven in the branches and softened with leathery leaves for them. He laid her down upon it and joined her there. Closing his eyes he rumbled, "Rest."

As much as she tried, Duncan could not find sleep. She watched the forest grow visible as light dawned as she listened to the calls of strange birds and brushed the occasional crawly feeling from her arms, legs or face. Kash'ta was becoming annoyed with her movements which were rousing him. He gave a soft grumble and placed a hand upon her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I can not sleep. What if I turn and fall?"

The Hunter understood a few of her words and she felt the huge arm reach across and pull her to his body. Then it remained and she understood. He would keep her from harm. She tried again to doze off unsuccessfully, too hyped up from events to find rest. So she tried to stay motionless to let the Hunter sleep, but he knew from her breathing that she was still awake and her disobedience taxed him. He took his arm from her and pressed a place in the med kit he carried, and then measured out just a tiny dose.

Duncan watched, horrifically fascinated by the unknown intricacies of his medieval looking medical devices. The odd looking goo he was retracting into a smallish needled tube almost glowed in the light. _Smallish needle – maybe for a Yautja, _she decided. In reality it was the size one might expect to use on cattle, only shorter. She didn't realize it, but the devices and medication were from a Yautja veterinary kit, designed to assist in managing live-captured prey.

His other arm came up behind her and Duncan gasped when her hair was once again seized and her head tilted to expose her neck. The hard jab made her wince and then there was nothing.

Kash'ta clicked in satisfaction as his female slumped her head back down onto their nest. He watched for a time to make sure her breathing was within normal limits and then, satisfied that he had not overdosed her, he relaxed into sleep. His protective arm was still around her in case she stirred.

The rest of the day passed without incident and the Hunter awakened just as the sun's last gleam dipped below the horizon. His arm felt stiff from guarding the female while he slept and he moved and flexed it restoring smooth motion before he got to his feet. The female had not awakened to his movement. She lay on her back with her mouth slightly open. Kash'ta watched her and wondered at the sound coming from it every time she exhaled. Was she ill? He continued watching until her sudden loud snort caused her eyes to fly open.

The first thing Duncan was aware of was the branches above her silhouetted against the darkening sky. Not recognizing where she was she made to turn over when a large foot stopped her, "No fall," the deep rumble said. With that the memory of her adventures in Hunterland came back to her. Slowly she sat up and got to her feet. She felt wobbly upon the sticks making up the springy nest and grabbed a nearby limb to steady her legs.

Looking out upon the sunset colored tree tops she realized just how high up they were and that they seemed to have come inland from the river. The Hunter's rough voice came again, "Up!" he commanded, holding out a clawed paw to her. _Ridin' time again,_ she thought, taking his hand and letting herself be swung over his shoulder onto his back. Descending effortlessly down the tree he jumped the last ten feet or so and Duncan received the jolt of his landing which nearly unseated her from his torso. He felt her slip and immediately crouched to let her slide unhurt to the inches deep water and bed of mud that made up the ground.

The Hunters' had filled containers with water from the river. The tide was out and only fresh water now flowed through the waterway and washed the roots of the thirsty trees. The females were given a few drinks before they clambered back up on their Hunters who now set out walking an incline. The branch-rooted trees thinned out and were replaced by other trees that looked more normal to Duncan. They were extremely tall and completely shaded the ground below. Deadfall and some undergrowth sometimes blocked their way, but the agile Hunters had no problem continuing their trek.

Showing mercy to their cargo, they allowed stops for the women to rest their strained legs, walk around a bit and toilet from time to time. The Hunters also needed to relieve themselves and did so without the least sign of needing to hide anything. Most of the women turned away in polite embarrassment, but Duncan decided to see what she could see. She quickly decided that she would greatly pity a constipated Yautja.

It was mid-day during another stop that Duncan spoke to Kash'ta, "We can walk now, you know."

Looking curiously at her, he replied, "Too slow." Duncan pulled herself up to her full height and announced, "Then I will run. I do not want to be carried right now." She set her blue eyes straight into the Hunter's brown ones and waited for his answer.

He did not answer her challenge, but instead called the end of the break and proceeded to walk off without offering his back to her. Delighted, she jogged along behind him as he struck a healthy pace. One of the other women called to her, "How did you get him to let you walk?"

"Can't walk," she cheerfully called back, "have to jog to keep up with him. I just asked." Duncan ran along until the ground became steeper. It was a nearly vertical rise that she struggled to climb behind the relentless footfalls of the Hunter leading her. He was a machine on the slope, never faltering, never stopping for breath.

The other Hunters passed her as she determinedly labored to put one foot in front of the other. Soon, they were out of sight through the dense tropical night-time jungle in front of her. She could barely see, there was no way she could follow where even their careful feet had disturbed the forest floor. Dropping down to rest where she was she knew that at least she would be able to follow their path in the morning.

A clicking sound brought her back to her tired feet. "Up now?" the familiar rough rumble same to her through the darkness.

"Yes, please," she tiredly replied.

A wide back was soon before her and she moved to take her place as strong arms clasped her legs. It was a short ride in utter blackness to where the group had again made tree nests to spend the sunlit hours. Her breath left her as, without warning, the strong steed leaped up a trunk and she clung for dear life as the mobile back moved under her. Soon she was unceremoniously dumped into a leafy nest and found the familiar large warm at her side and arm wrapped around her. He moved close to huff her sweaty scent and softly trilled to her. She was hoping he wouldn't want to try the woven branches and vines by mating when, completely exhausted, sleep found her.


	13. Blood Wine

**Chapter 12: Blood Wine**

_**We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools. – Martin Luther King Jr.**_

Sally signaled Yin and Yang to allow the returned translator to enter her dwelling. The interruption, that someone requested entrance, came as she and Mel were deeply engaged in working on how they could interact with the yet-to-be-born children without unduly influencing them in human ways. Right now their plan called for the girls to attend the normal training classes but return home each night to spend time with their Bearers. Fatherly visits from their Sires were also encouraged. The plan would have to be sanctioned by the High Council of course. Before she paraded it out for their endorsement, Sally wanted to have all her Hunters review it and hear their reaction to it. She was open to any suggestions they might have that would help her and Mel stay near their pups.

"Remember, Melanie, these females are more than our children. By recreating the Yautja female we are freeing our human sisters from the horrible experience that you had, as well as their enslavement by the Hunters in order to procreate. We MUST not teach them our ways. They must become the Yautja females of old."

"I understand. No women should suffer what I went through. Tell me, I know that the women who bear pups are allowed to return to Earth during their pregnancy, but what else happens? How are the women chosen?"

Sally winced at the question. She had not gained everything she wanted in her parley with the High Council. "The women are still selected by the Hunters as they were. I'm sorry, Mel, but they will not give that up until they are certain that our daughters can bear them pups."

"So our daughters now go into uterine slavery?" Mel's tone went up a notch as it always did when she was upset.

"NO! Our daughters become the part of this society that is missing! It is the Yautja way for females to become bearers of pups. And do not forget that this is a matriarchal society - the females weld the true power here. Without their existence the males have ventured into dishonor in order to try and preserve their bloodlines. Our daughters will PICK their mates – not the other way around."

Somewhat placated, Mel returned to their conversation regarding the pups training instructors.

Sally had already received consent from the Council for the list of training subjects she had put together with help from all her Hunters, and now they needed to determine who the best instructor of each area was. It was not necessarily who knew the most that would be selected. Sally and Mel sought out those who had an excellent base of knowledge along with the talent, patience and skill to teach.

Theron entered the room where the two women sat and nodded respectfully to the Matriarch. "I have returned from consulting with my High Elder," he began. "I wish to…obey your command and bond with any and all you would have me to…who are worthy. I beg your…indulgence in my earlier reluctance to obey." His speech was somewhat halting as though he had to think about each word, but his voice stayed low and his eyes did not meet hers. Sally was taken aback at this sudden change in him. Where was the haughty warrior who had formerly insulted everyone and attacked Sig'dan?

"I indulge you, Theron, but just this time" she replied. "What has changed your mind?"

"I have been shown certain historical information, Honorable Matriarch, and have been sworn to secrecy. So I cannot tell, even you, what this information is."

"I would certainly like to know. But I understand that your word is your bond. Is there anyone else I might ask about this historical information?

"My High Council Elder is the Warrior you should consult with. I believe it would be best for you to first speak with Myn'dill."

"Really? The Healer?" Sally was baffled by this direction.

"Yes, Honorable Matriarch."

"I will then. Theron, the last time we spoke, you said that there was a greater bond than the one I proposed. Do you believe it would be more meaningful to all of us if we participated in this greater bond? I…require an explanation."

"Yes. It is the Blood Bond. Those who are invited are cut with the…small sharp blade. I believe your word for it is…lancet. We are each bled into the wine cup and the blood is mixed with the wine to symbolize our bond. Then we drink it. And…I neglected to mention that the small wound in the vein is closed, so there is no fear of bleeding too much. The scar will stand for our bond throughout the lives of all who participate."

Sally looked thoughtful. Melanie interrupted, "Sally, uh, I mean Honorable Matriarch, we have to DRINK it?"

"Apparently so, Mel. Honorable Theron, this is my companion Honorable Melanie. She is the Bearer of Sig'dan's pup."

Theron and Mel nodded politely to each other, with Theron wondering at her use of the word 'we'. Was the Matriarch intending for the small ooman female to attend the bonding? Surely she had misspoken. Mel found herself staring at the unusually fine-featured Hunter while Sally thought of another question, "How is the wound closed?"

"The time honored way, Honorable Matriarch. A fine metal rod is heated and then touched to the wound. It leaves an exquisite scar. He held up his arm to show a pattern, "This is the mark of my advanced training. A metal fire rod was heated and the end pressed to my skin – many times. The series of marks was used to create the pattern of this symbol."

Sally and Mel gawked at what looked like a capital 'I' scarred into the fine inner scales of Theron's forearm. Many tiny blackened dots formed the figure that had been burned into the flesh.

"This symbol is called the Zazin," he explained with a show of the old pride. "It is worn only by the highest warriors of my Clan who have achieved the ability to act from their true center." Theron looked rather smug as the females peered at his scar. It had been painful to receive, but Theron had stood without flinching as pride was burned into his body.

"I understand," Sally replied, "Sig-dan has explained to me that to excel in the spar and fighting you must find the center of strength in your body. It is about here, isn't it?" Sally pointed to a spot about halfway between her navel and her pelvic bone.

"That is near the position of the physical center, Honorable Matriarch. But the Zazin also refers to the center of your being, the place where what makes 'you' emanates from."

"You mean like where your spirit comes from?" Sally found this extremely interesting.

"I am not certain it translates, Honorable Matriarch. I must think upon it," Theron returned.

Sally abruptly stood, "Fine, we will call a gathering for the Blood Bond. I look forward to it," she smiled briefly at her translator. "Melanie and I are working on assigning instructors to teach our pups after they are of age. What do you think you could teach them?" She looked him right in the gray eyes, daring him to disregard her inquiry.

He thought for a moment and then answered, "I would be honored to teach them some fighting skills, Matriarch. Our offspring must know how to defend themselves, and how to properly make the challenge to others. I would begin early with them, if you permit, as they will need strength and toughness to become the best females."

"I have heard some about your childhood training Theron. It seems excessively harsh to me, even for a Hunter. I understand that our females must be strong, but I will not have my daughters injured unnecessarily."

"I promise on my honor that this training will not be harsher than required. I will not have any of them injured without just cause, Matriarch!"

"I believe in your honor Theron, but as a human mother your promise leaves me with little assurance. I would have you review your plans for training them with both Mel and I. That way we can be reassured that the training will not be…harsher than required."

Theron chaffed at the order, but submitted. "I will create a plan and then present it to both of you."

He understood why the Council was reluctant for the humans to spend time with the pups. Oomans were very emotional and weak when it came to their offspring.

"I will request that my Consort call those who are to be bonded together."

"Very good, Honorable Matriarch," he replied, "With your permission, I will request that Healer Myn'dill be the one to strike our arms for blood and also apply the fire rod."

"Excellent choice, Theron. You are excused then. Mel and I are working on the training plan for our pups. I will require you after mid-cycle when I will be meeting with the High Council. They wish my opinion on something."

"I will be here to accompany you to the Council, Honorable Matriarch." He nodded and left to seek out Myn'dill.

* * *

The half-Dor'an Healer had agreed to perform the bleeding and cauterization for all those attending the ceremony. The invitation had not yet been issued, so Theron did not know for certain who would be in attendance.

When the translator arrived back at his quarters, he found that the Matriarch's order to the Consort had been given and acted upon promptly, for there on his door was the invitation to the bonding. The names of all invited were written upon the leather scroll and Theron scanned the list. The Consort's name was there, of course. He would be a worthy blood bond. Theron still remembered the feel of the Arbitrator's mighty hand about his throat. _Certainly not the fastest fighter, but once he has hold of you…your end is certain_, he thought.

Reading on, he saw the names of the Matriarch's daytime guardians. They came from the ranks of those who guarded the High Council Elders. _Certainly worthy._ Then came the name of the Healer, Myn'dill. _Every group of Warriors requires a Healer, but can he fight? _Theron was left wondering at the Healer's abilities. Many who healed nearly abandoned the Hunt and spar.

The finding of Sig'dan's name made him churn inside. _Why is the name of Sally's pup-mate on this list? Of what use is one so young and weak to the rest of us?_

The names ended with those of the Matriarch and her companion he had just met – Melanie. He rapped his tusks in grim distaste. _I am to bond with two ooman females? Even if one is a Matriarch – this is beyond any reason. I see no value in including them. What could either of them possibly do to fight or defend? Perhaps we could throw them at the enemy. _His mind suddenly saw two Hunters playing a game of catch with a balled up Matriarch – held in place by strips of leather. Tapping his tusks, he put in a call to the one who had sent him the invitation.

Aldúlfr answered his com and heard nothing but the staccato of Yautja ivory. "Whoever you are, you must surrender your agitation if you wish to speak," he said.

"My apology, Honorable Elder Arbitrator. I have read the names of those who you wish to participate in the Blood Bond and I must put forth objections."

"I thought you would. I will hear your points of contention over c'ntlip. Please join me in my quarters."

"I am honored by your invitation. Where may I find your quarters?"

"Adjacent to the Matriarch's. Ask her guardians, they will point out the entrance if it eludes you."

Aldúlfr closed the communication and was amused at the small insult he had paid Theron. He muttered to himself, trying to figure out how he could justify those he knew the Dor'an objected to. Sig'dan, he could figure out a reason for – but the females? That was much more challenging. He had been thinking about it ever since his mate had first suggested, no ordered, him to do this. He knew of the bond that Theron had alluded to, and in his thoroughness, the Arbitrator had met with the Dor'an High Council Elder. The High Elder had approved of the Blood Bond or Chy'ytei Thwei ceremony and given precise instruction as to how to go about it. He had also gifted Aldúlfr with tools to release and then stop the flow of thwei.

For some reason, that Aldúlfr was too polite to inquire about, the High Elder had been greatly entertained by the idea of Theron being blood bonded to ooman females. He had chortled quietly, as though to himself, during much of their meeting after learning that Theron was invited. The Arbitrator did not know what was so funny – was it Theron himself, or just the fact of a Dor'an Warrior participating in the rite? If the Elder had intended for him to understand, Aldúlfr knew he would have explained.

A sound from his doorway informed him that the Dor'an translator was here. He signaled for him to enter and motioned him over to the table where a tankard was already being poured. Theron gave a nod of politeness and respect for the legendary Arbitrator and took a seat. The drink was good and cleared his throat for the questions he must ask.

Releasing his mandibles from the now empty mug he set it down and watched as Aldúlfr poured him another. "Let us begin with the most difficult items," he suggested. With a nod of agreement from the Consort, he went on, "Pyode amedha lou-dte kale? You would invite me to a sacred bond with ooman females? I am beyond amazement and, in purity, disgust that this invitation has been given. Even if one of the pyode amedha is the Matriarch."

Aldúlfr let the Warrior finish speaking – releasing some of his quandary and frustration through his words. "Sei, Honorable Warrior. I understand better than you realize, your feelings at this request. Listen to my words. I understand because I was requested to become her Consort. First by my eldest and most Honorable Bloodline, and then by the entire High Council!"

The Arbitrator explained what had happened from the beginning to Theron, as best as Aldúlfr knew it. He told of Paya's House, his offspring Ulfr and the part Sally had played in the unveiling and freeing of the Ancients trapped there. He told of Ulfr's tale to him of Sally's understanding of honor and how she had even stood up to her own kind and assisted the Yautja. He told of how she had behaved before the High Council and the events that led to her naming as Matriarch. "She is not physically strong, but her mind is sharp and her will is powerful."

"This I know for myself," Theron agreed.

"Besides, there are other considerations here that may have not occurred to you," Aldúlfr mentioned. Telling Theron that he had missed something was supreme baiting for the intellectually proud young Warrior who raised both brows in question and cocked his head at the Arbitrator.

"This rite will bind you to a Matriarch as powerfully as if you were in her physical bloodline – will it not?"

"Sei, it will."

"Then you will be in the bloodline of the Matriarch of all the Yautja, the female leader whom the High Council defers to, and the savior of our race. Do you think this is a small thing for your career?"

Theron studied his now emptied tankard, "I had not considered that." He brooded for a time as the c'ntlip was poured again. "I see the…advantages. But is she honorable enough for this bond?"

"There is a Yautja in whom I place great faith. I would entrust him with my soul if necessary. I asked him nearly that same question once when I was considering becoming her Consort – for my own reasons I asked him if she was honorable. He told me of his firsthand observations of her in Paya's House and he deemed her understanding of honor sufficient. So what else can I convey to you to convince you of her worthiness? To me, she is honorable and I place great trust in her."

"I believe you, Honorable Aldúlfr. Your words convince me. But, what of the other female? Of what worth is she?"

"She conceived a female from Sig'dan's seed. She went to great lengths to save it from destruction by the oomans. The High Council has deemed her worthy because of this. Is your judgment superior to theirs?"

Theron studied his tankard again, "No, I would never claim that. So…she is worthy. But you mention Sig'dan. Of what possible gain it is to include such a young untried Hunter?"

"The young Hunter has been tried more than you know. I vouch for his worthiness now and in the future. He will be a great Hunter, Theron. He is of my bloodline and I train him myself. If you do not see his value now, think of his future greatness and how such an ally could benefit you."

"I did not realize his heritage, Honorable Elder. I meant no insult to you." Theron looked down at the table not daring to meet the strength in the Arbitrator's eyes.

"You must learn to learn before you speak, Honorable Warrior of the Dor'an...I understand your lack of knowledge regarding my bloodline offspring. If you doubt his future, then spar with me," he rumbled, almost gently, at Theron.

"I would enjoy such a challenge! May I request another to join us?"

"Who?" asked Aldúlfr.

"Another on the list, Honorable Healer Myn'dill."

Aldúlfr grated one tusk against another, "There are many who doubt the strength of a Healer. Let us put your mind at ease then in the morning. There is a kerhite attached to my quarters that needs more use. Myn'dill and I will meet you here."

"Agreed!"

* * *

The following morning found Aldúlfr, Myn'dill and Theron together in the Consort's private kehrite warming up. When each felt ready they signaled to the others with a full mandible display of aggression. The Arbitrator gave the sign first, quickly followed by Theron. The Healer took a little while longer. While he kept in shape, it had been several moons since he had last sparred.

As the Elder, Aldúlfr gave Theron his choice of whom to fight first. The younger grayish Warrior cockily gave the Myn'dill a shoulder shove. "Let me warm up further for you, Honorable Elder, by challenging this Healer." Aldúlfr gave a nod as Myn'dill returned a strong push to the translator's shoulder.

Theron was surprised at the agility of the older Hunter as he sprang into sparring position. _Someone has shown him how to find his true center. _Theron immediately wondered if Myn'dill's Sire had any hand in training him. He had said that Myn'dill was brought up in his Bearer's Clan's tradition, but he did not say that he had no part in the pup's training. Theron's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Seeing the opportunity for a first hit, Myn'dill leaped to his opponent and delivered a blow with the heel of his hand which sent the young Dor'an reeling. Being over-confident like a green Hunter, and thinking about who had trained the Healer had left him open for a nano-moment which experienced Myn'dill had exploited. Wiping the green liquid décor from his chin, Theron gave the Healer a broad top mandible smile.

Rather than return the gesture, Myn'dill attacked again, this time managing a hit to Theron's gut that left him wondering if he'd be able to eat again. The Healer was amazingly strong! And fast – like a Dor'an. The two circled, growling their threats until Theron found his own opening and charged to find only empty space. Myn'dill had performed the oldest trick in the book – feint where you are moving and then step aside at the last possible moment. Theron's momentum spilled him out of the sparring circle and the bout was automatically ended.

Aldúlfr came forward saying, "I declare the spar winner is Honorable Myn'dill!"

The Healer nodded respectfully to his Elder and then to Theron. "You are a worthy opponent young Dor'an. I will willingly partake of the Chy'ytei Thwei with you. I see your potential and time will season you into a great Warrior."

Theron had never felt so humiliated in his life. Apparently the Healer had attended this spar not to prove anything to Theron but to ascertain his worthiness! He felt humbled for the first time since he was a young pup and an older Dor'an had rubbed his face in his own excrement for being too haughty. _I did not learn my lesson back then, so Paya and Cetanu arrange for my instruction this day. _

Theron bowed his head to the Healer, "I had not thought that you, as a Healer, would be a superior fighter. You have taught me that I was wrong, and that I should not judge another by his profession. I accept your lesson with gratitude." A truly penitent Yautja kept his eyes to the floor as Myn'dill gave him a comradely jostle of the shoulder.

Theron then turned to the Arbitrator whose great bulk was rapidly advanced toward him, his face in full expansion and a thunderous growl vibrating through the air. He braced himself for the shove, returned it and the match was on! "Watch yourself, pup!" Aldúlfr warned. The combatants circled inside the sparring round, another sacred hoop of Paya and Cetanu, snarling intimidation at each other.

Theron witnessed that Aldúlfr was not quite as centered as Myn'dill, but did not let that give him excuse to relax. One misstep and the hands that had dealt so many their deaths would be upon him. They circled, Aldúlfr waiting with infinite patience for his opportunity. He was impressed with the balance and grace of the younger Yautja and knew Theron's speed would exceed his own. The trick would be to anticipate the Warrior's move and be there to meet him. Once the gray Yautja was within his steel-trap grasp, there would be no question on the winner.

Myn'dill was growing bored with the circling pair. He briefly found himself missing his old shipmate Ab'bi and his wagering. At least that would have added to the entertainment.

Abruptly the Elder erupted toward Theron who dodged only to find himself back again circling Aldúlfr and trying to find an opening. Again Aldúlfr sprang towards him and again the younger avoided the rush. This happened over and over until Myn'dill had to stifle a great yawn.

Theron knew the Elder was testing him by evaluating his avoidance tactics and learning how he moved. When an opponent did this, it was Theron's ploy to change his game and do the unexpected. Gathering his strength, he watched Aldúlfr circle, looking for another opening to charge. Theron saw the slight tension grow in the Elder's body and made his own charge instead. Suddenly, he found himself dangling at arms length with a great hand clasped around his neck. He could still breathe, but could not get away in this hand-to-hand combat. The Elder's arm was strong and too long for Theron to land a kick on the hardened body. Realizing there was nothing he could do, the Warrior relaxed and simply hung from the fleshy noose.

Aldúlfr knew better than to relax as he felt the fight leave Theron. A winner had not yet been declared, and the slightest release from his hand would have given the Dor'an a chance to free himself and attack. "Do you submit?" the Elder asked the wilted body.

Theron glared at the Elder, enraged that he had allowed himself to be caught. He did not embrace the no-win situation – but here he was, dangling like a newborn's cord and feeling like the back-side of a whipped eta.

"I submit," he lowered his eyes and felt the vise loosen. He gracefully dropped to the floor. "Your strength and patience are my teachers," he intoned to the Arbitrator.

"In time, there will be no one who can stand against you, Theron," the Arbitrator rumbled back. "I am pleased that we will be Brothers."

* * *

After seven cycles, the group gathered at dusk on benches that had been set up in Sally's garden. Yaut's two moons were still low on the horizon but they would ascend to their zenith in time as the night went on. It was a rare occurrence this evening, both moons were full. An auspicious night, Sally hoped, for the Blood Bond to occur.

All the Hunters were gathered in their finest battle armor. For the Consort that meant the black engraved metal that he had worn to his bonding ceremony with the Matriarch. Sally was glad for the opportunity to examine it closer. She took her seat beside him and placed a hand briefly upon his muscle-bound arm in fondness. He didn't even glance at her as she seated herself for this most solemn ceremony, but only looked stoically ahead. But she knew he'd felt her touch, and perhaps even appreciated the small gesture.

Yin and Yang took their places, along with Myn'dill, Sig'dan and Theron. Sig'dan and Myn'dill looked handsome in their pewter-colored metal with great strong shoulder bracing, matching masks, codpieces and greaves. Yin and Yang were similarly attired except their armor was a bit more utilitarian. Theron's was a shiny silvery color and his mask was unlike any other Sally had ever seen. Emerging from the top, standing straight up over the head was a red bristle made of many stiff vermillion fibers fanned out like a peacock's tail. His many silver-ringed locks flowed out from the back and sides of this crown. She wondered if all Dor'an were so attired for battle and pictured a field of red preening pea fowl that had mandibles and growled.

Melanie was fascinated by the armor as she had not viewed much of it in her Yautja encounters. Around Yaut, Hunters usually only wore light armor if any at all. The medical vessel's crew had been metal bedecked, but she was so enthralled with her voyage she paid little attention to them, and on the transport back to Yaut she had spent time alone or with Sig'dan.

She found the Consort's armor positively frightening with all the saw-tooth edges and wondered if it struck fear into the hearts of those he hunted. Theron's silver armor shined like the fabled Knights of the Round Table. It complemented his gray skin tones immeasurably. But the red brush on top nearly did her in. Mel sucked in the sides of her cheeks in order to contain her snicker. _He looks ridiculous with that on his head – like some kind of Kachina doll, _she thought. She was unable to keep from staring at it while the Honored Warrior ignored her rudeness as she sat herself in her previously appointed place in between him and Sig'dan.

After all had been seated, the armored Hunters removed their masks. Theron stood and walked to the center of the circle where a drinking vessel of wine had been placed, along with a small box and a flame that burned brightly from some type of small lamp. Theron addressed them, first in Yautja and then in English.

"You are na'rik'na, or called, to sit in this sacred circle of Paya and Cetanu in order to pledge yourselves to each other as bonded by blood. No greater bond exists. By all that is holy you will support and defend each other and each others' offspring – to the death. From this cycle on, we are mei'hswei bhu'ja, spiritual brother, and mei-jadhi bhu'ja, spiritual sister, to each other."

He resumed his seat and Myn'dill arose, going to the table and opening the small box. It was a case containing the sacred instruments for this ceremony. He removed a thin rod with some sort of deep black, shiny handle and placed the tip over the small hot flame, handing it to an aseigan. The wine cup he handed to another then carried the lancet to the Matriarch. As the ranking one, she would go first. Sally willed her body to move with all deliberateness and took deep slow breaths as she raised her right arm and turned the forearm to expose the inside for the bloodletting. One aseigan now knelt beside her holding the vessel of wine to catch her offering. The other carried the lamp with the rod held carefully over the hot upper part of the flame. Sally watched the metal rod tip begin to glow a dull red.

Myn'dill steadied the Matriarch's small arm. He placed a stick in her hand saying, "Squeeze. Hold." She did and after a bit the long vein that bisected her forearm began to appear. The Healer brushed over it several times with his fingers and took the sharp blade and began to cut. Sally stared across the circle and held Theron's orbs steady with her own, determined to show no emotion during this procedure.

The blade went easily through her thin skin and divided the vein with a neat small slice. Myn'dill was careful not to cut all the way through. He pulled his blade and the incision immediately filled with red which overflowed, ran down her arm and then steadily streamed into the wine below. Bright red swirls of liquid life meandered in the deep purple liquid. Then the Healer took the heated rod tip and held it to the wound. Sally concentrated on her breathing as every seared nerve screamed for her to jerk the arm away. The stench of her own charred flesh accompanied the deliberate intake of air. Myn'dill was already on to Aldúlfr when she lowered her arm and took her eyes from Theron. The small burn hurt like hell. She wished for an ice cube to soothe it.

The Elder Arbitrator was bleeding a small green trickle into the communal cup. Smoke arose when his wound was cauterized but he didn't seem to even feel it as he looked thoughtfully around the group while the small operation was carried out. The Healer continued around the circle, mixing the blood of Yin, Yang and Theron into the brew. Then it was Melanie's turn.

She bravely held out her forearm and looked away to her right as the cut was made. _This can't be much worse than the time Jerry Wright and I burned each other's arms with a cigarette. We thought it would look so cool… _

Theron looked into the eyes of the female to his left and saw that she was not there, but turned inward. _Admirable, she goes inside herself for strength._ As the hot seal formed on her skin, Melanie came out of her memory and nearly flinched. Myn'dill held her arm secure and felt the small movement. He held her still and hoped that no one had noticed. Theron had, of course, and he debated if it was from pain or surprise as she had been deeply inwardly focused when the rod had hit her. The smell of cooking ooman flesh assailed his mouth and he shut it quickly.

Myn'dill had moved on to Sig'dan and then finally to himself. When all had bled into the cup it was returned to the table and thoroughly stirred. Theron arose once more and went to the center. He took the now full vessel and raised it to the night sky. "Paya and Cetanu! We take each other into ourselves. Transform us this night into spiritual relations. Take note of our connectedness!"

He took the cup to Sally and held it out to her. She carefully grasped it with both hands, took a sniff and raised it unhesitatingly to her lips. The sweet wine mixed with the metallic iron and copper tastes of human and Yautja blood was surprisingly drinkable. She swirled it in her mouth from habit and then swallowed the large sip down. Handing it back to Theron she studied the lingering tastes. Around the assemblage it went, mandible clasped and swallowed by each one until it reached Melanie.

She reached for the cup and gingerly brought it to her mouth thinking, _over the lips, over the tongue. Look out stomach, here it comes! _She took a large swig and gulped it down hoping not to taste the thickish liquid. Handing the drink back to Theron, she focused on not retching at the thought of what she had just consumed.

Soon, all had partaken except the Dor'an. He raised the vessel to his mouth, grasping the sides with his mandibles, and took a hefty drink, finishing off the contents. He placed the glass back on the table and then retook his seat without a word.

All sat in silence for a time. The formal part of the ceremony was over and there would now be eating and drinking. But all chose to stay in stillness for awhile, contemplating the ceremony. Theron noticed that Melanie kept looking up to the top of his head. She had probably never seen a mask with a crownpiece before. He whisper-rumbled to her, "Do you like it?"

Startled, Melanie whispered back, "What? Oh. Uh, yea…it's a…nice. But…oh, I don't mean to be rude. Sorry, I'll just shut up now."

Theron's head cocked in curiousity, "Ask your question. I will not be offended."

"Well, how do you fight in that? Seems like an open invitation for somebody to grab your head."

Theron chortled and clicked softly, "It is not worn in battle. It is only worn for this ceremony." Reaching up he removed the sideways cock's comb and handed it to her. She took it and stroked the bristles gently, they were surprisingly soft.

"What is this made from?" she asked.

"What you would call a flower, I believe."

"Really? That's amazing."

Theron looked askance, "You question if I told you the truth?" His mandibles began to open.

"No! No, oh gosh I'm sorry. It was just an expression, not disbelief."

He looked at her quizzically. In the meantime, Sally had risen and was walking around the group congratulating everyone. She invited all of them inside for c'ntlip. Walking over to the Consort, she took his arm. "Would you please escort me inside, Honorable Aldúlfr?" He nodded, greatly pleased by her public show of wanting to be with him.

They went inside where bottles and tankards awaited. Everyone settled wherever they wanted and began drinking. The drink was accompanied by dishes of fruit and small slices of raw meat. Some meat had been cooked and set aside for the females.

Myn'dill came up to both Sally and Mel on the pretense of congratulating them. As he went to one then the other, he clasped them by the shoulder while his other hand moved to smear a little pain-relieving ointment on the burned spot. Sally smiled at him – always thoughtful, always faithful Myn'dill. He and Theron seemed to have struck up some sort of friendship, she had noticed. She intended to have this group assemble often in order to get to know each other. _Spiritual siblings, huh? I like that Hmmm, I wonder if that makes Sig'dan and me illegal in parts of the United States? _She snickered at her own thought and then grew serious, remembering the events of a few cycles ago...

The summoning by the High Council to garner her opinion on the day Theron had returned had been unexpected. He had met her and they had walked together, along with Yin and Yang, to the Council chambers. She had confessed to her translator that she had no idea why the Elders wished to speak with her.

Entering the great somber building, they were led by a greeting aseigan through the Great Hall to the private chamber. Granted entrance, the Matriarch and Theron were greeted by the nods of all the Clan High Elders. The Leader got to his feet, and motioned them to the empty chairs at the great table. "Be seated, Honorable Matriarch and her Honorable translator, Theron. There is much to speak of and we prefer your comfort."

Sally and her translator took the offered seats, and then Sally spoke up, "What do you wish of me, my Honorable Elders?" Theron translated her words to the Council.

The Leader addressed them again, "We have received several reports from both Hunter and ooman that a group of Badbloods is on the Blue Planet. These rogues have been reported to have taken several females. We believe they are the same group that stole a valuable Hunt transport which was spotted by the oomans and destroyed while in orbit. It is possible that the Badbloods used the drop ships to safely make the surface. We do not know if the ooman females are still with them. Nor do we know where they might have landed. The oomans sent us a recording taken of a female Arbitrator surrendering to them. We would value your opinion of her after watching it. It might assist us to understand why she surrendered."

"Of course. I will watch it and do my best to understand her actions. I am honored to be of assistance."

A machine in the wall made a brief ticking sound and they all watched as the recording played on the large screen in front of them.

Sally quickly identified that the recording had been made from the inside of a police car, as she saw a uniformed officer run from the side of the picture down the street and them come to a halt as distance from, but directly in front of, the car. The officer's back was to the camera and the hand must hold a weapon, Sally figured, as the arms were raised and the holster appeared to be empty. Sally considered the slender figure and saw the narrow waist that widened into hips. _That's a woman, _she realized.

Without warning, the officer dropped her weapon and then slowly raised her hands to her head. She threw off her cap and seemed to be fishing for something in her hair. Then the hair tumbled down in a great swath of red.

A Hunter could be seen uncloaking and walking toward her. He swept her up, recloaked and carried her from the camera's view. A cloud of shimmers floated across the view and Sally's quick eyes could see that one of the Hunter's cloaking was fizzling. Perhaps it was malfunctioning or he had gotten wet. "Can you replay that last part where the cloaked Hunters are walking away? One of them has a problem with his cloaking. Can you enlarge it also?"

Theron asked her questions and the film began again where the uncloaked Hunter strode up to the female officer. The quavering reflections marched by and the Matriarch again saw the fizzle, "Stop!" she cried. "Stop the recording right there."

The Leader understood her first word and the record came to a halt.

Sally peered at the half camouflaged figure. "Can it be enlarged more?"

The picture grew yet larger, and hazier. Sally scrutinized the figure again. "I believe that I know that Hunter," she pronounced. "That looks like one of the members of Ulfr's crew. His name is Kylfa."

Loud grumbles came from the Elders, Theron translated for Sally, "Kylfa was reported as missing by his Sire on the day the Hunt transport that he had been assigned to was stolen."

Sally shook her head, "Dim-witted, but funny Kylfa involved in crime? That is difficult to fathom. He is most certainly not the leader!"

One of the Elders chortled, "His Sire reports his stupidity also."

"And what of the female in the recording? What do you make of her behavior?"

"I believe that she has been educated in Yautja Hunters. She removed her hat and let her hair down to show the Hunter she was a female. She knew that if she fought him, she would die – so she threw down her gun know that if she did not initiate a challenge, he would not fight her. And then she demonstrated her worth to him and so gained her life. He took her for a mate, I believe."

"Yes, we understand what he did. We had not understood the female's behavior. It makes sense the way you explain it. We thank you for explaining it." The Elders sat and waited for Sally to allow them to return to their discussion. Instead she asked, "So, what are you going to do about this?"

The Elders as a unit turned their faces to her, some with raised brows. She had never intruded upon their business before. The Leader ventured his answer, "We are summoning our Arbitrator's to look into this. If they can locate the drop ships, or traces of their destruction, they can discharge the demands of Honor upon them."

"Meaning their death?" Sally asked.

"Sei, the Arbitrators would perform their function immediately."

"And what of the women with them?"

"We do not know if they still have the females in their possession, or if they died in the transport's destruction."

"True, but you also do not know if the females are dead. Will a ooman fit in a drop ship with a Hunter?"

One Elder chortled again and remarked, "It depends on the Hunter and the ooman!" Theron neglected to translate his remark.

"Sei, they would."

"Then I would prefer to assume, until my assumption is proven incorrect, that the women are with them and still alive. What will your Arbitrators do with them?"

"They will release them. They will not harm them, Honorable Matriarch."

"What if the Badbloods are hiding in a remote area? The women will not be equipped to survive such circumstances. If you take their providers, you condemn them to death as surely as if the Arbitrators dispatched them."

The Elders nodded to each other and rumbled their comments regarding her points. The Leader finally spoke, "Honorable Matriarch, we understand your concern regarding the possibility that the females still live. What do you suggest?"

"The women will likely be very frightened of any Hunter they encounter. It would be better if they at least encountered a Hunter who could speak their language. Do your sources have any idea where the women were taken from?"

"There are reports of missing females from all over your planet. However, a cluster of them were recently reported missing from a single place – here." He projected a map of the North American continent and used a tri-laser pointer to mark the place on the land that Sally knew as the state of Michigan.

"They speak my language there," she stated. "I would request that Honorable Sig-dan be assigned to accompany the Arbitrators. He can speak with them, explain and calm them. His presence will be valuable to your Arbitrators in controlling the women."

The Council heard her words through Theron. They sat clicking and muttering in their rough way as Sally patiently waited for the outcome. She did not wait long. The Leader again addressed her via her translator, "We agree. The party of Arbitrators is organizing and planning their leave now. They will contact Sig'dan when and if the Badbloods are found and he will join them in the final hunt. If the females are with them, he will be responsible for them and their relocation. With your permission, Matriarch." The Leader bowed his head to her and Sally nodded back.

"My permission is given. You may resume your work."

As the Elders returned to conference, the Matriarch and her translator left the room…

Sally shook off her memories and returned to the celebration. She found her Consort refilling her small glass of c'ntlip. "Oh no you don't!" she reprimanded him, trying to push the hand holding the bottle away. The Arbitrator chuffed in mock correction of her and spread his mandibles in a fakery of challenge. Sally stared him down and placing her hands to her face made her own mandibles and stretched them out as far as they would go. Then taking a deep breath, she roared c'ntlip ooman breath in his face for all she was worth.

The Elite Elder Arbitrator nearly wet his cloth he clicked and chortled so hard. The rest of the room stared at the pair and then all decorum was lost as Yautja and human laughter filled the air. Glasses were raised and toasts were given as the newly created family commemorated their oneness.


	14. Strangers In A Strange Land

**Chapter 13: Strangers in a Strange Land**

"… _remember that in the final choice a soldier's pack is not so heavy a burden as a prisoner's chains." – Dwight David Eisenhower_

The Hunters, bearing their stolen human female cargo, had been trudging up the steep jungle slope for more than a cycle. In spite of their strength, progress was slow for the stout aliens as they carried their reluctant mates and expertly made their way in the darkness through the thick plant growth.

Duncan could feel the bellows of his ribcage move and hear his labored breathing as he toiled to move himself up the mountainside while carrying her on his back. She felt the sweat gather and run off his bulging arms where they held her legs. Her weary hands clung to the leather straps on his back and the ache of prolonged strain consumed her arms. While her living ferry made his way, the hum of insects annoyed her ears and sometimes she felt them land and bite. She had given up trying to brush them off as she concentrated only on clinging to the Yautja. They feasted relentlessly as she maintained focus on not slipping off and sliding to her death down the mountainside.

"Rest?" her voice made the hopeful query as the determined being beneath her did not falter in his step, but tromped on, covering the incline with heavy steps. A Hunter far ahead of them broke the barely readable trail.

"Not…yet," rumbled the voice through her personal jungle of black locks that hung in her face and rubbed at her skin. They were smooth but not soft. She wondered if they were growths like hair or fingernails, or if they could feel and had a circulation. There was not much else to do as Kash'ta lumbered on except study the feel of his dark appendages with the side of her face. She tried to see them in the night's pitch black, but made out only a few metallic, surrounding a lock here and there, shining when they crossed through tree filtered moonlight.

Duncan's legs, arms and hands were beginning to crescendo a scream of discomfort, exhausted from the abnormal position of being backpack for a Yautja. She was questioning how much longer she could stay in this strained pose when the world fell out from under her. A sudden slip of her mount's right leg as a rock slid under his foot sent the tiring young Hunter down on the trail, his arms abandoned their duty of pack support as they reached out to keep his face from hitting rock. Feeling her support leave, Duncan sprang away fearing that her limbs might be crushed beneath him. She landed in a heap upon the trail. He laid completely still, face-down for a moment while she hobbled on stiff legs to his side, felt her way up his body in the darkness and paced a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she timidly asked as another woman astride a trudging Hunter passed them going up the mountain. Nearly spent Kylfa didn't give Kash'ta a second glance. In a sliver of moonlight, Duncan could dimly see the Yautja negotiate the steep plane, his human rucksack exhaustedly hanging on for dear life, her short legs splayed across his back as he supported her ankles.

A grunt answered the officer as Kash'ta lifted his head. Without another sound, he regained his feet and assisted her in mounting. Her body whined as she resumed the position she had held for the past three hours, but, gritting her teeth, she held on. If he wasn't going to complain about having to carry her up this torturous trail, she would try and endure also. As the grueling hike continued, Duncan felt her leg grow wet with moisture from an unknown source. Had they brushed by leaves drenched with dew that had soaked her foreleg?

Another half-hour of Herculean exertion and they made the top. The Hunter that had taken point and Kylfa were already there, resting on some rocks while the short female limped about trying to regain feeling in her legs. Kash'ta knelt for his rider to dismount and then sat upon the nearest rock and opened his med kit. Duncan watched in fascination while she stretched her legs to get rid of the tingling lack of circulation and was drawn closer to get a better look.

From the carefully organized kit the Hunter removed a tube and set it upon a rock. Then taking a small device from the medical gear, he pointed it at the tube, taking careful aim. What looked like a thin white laser beam hit it for only a second or two, and then Kash'ta took the tube from the rock and squeezed out the glowing blue contents onto a thin metal spatula that looked like an artist's tool.

He smeared the blue ooze onto the large gash on his palm in a single wipe. Now hovering, Duncan was startled by his mandibles snapping open and giving a roar that sent her flying onto her backside in surprise!

"Nice way to treat a girl," she muttered, getting up and brushing dirt and tiny bits of rock from her bare rear. "What the hell was that all about?"

Kash'ta growled back resentfully, "Hurt."

_So, he CAN feel._ Duncan realized she had been mentally portraying the aliens as unfeeling monsters. Of course they had nerve endings and they could feel pain! The idea somehow made them slightly less monstrous in her eyes. _They are aliens, not movie_ _monsters_, she reminded herself. How much, if any, emotional response they had still remained to be witnessed.

She glanced down at her leg and saw a swath of green blood that had been smeared by his injured hand as he held her. She pondered that there had been no hesitation in his strength as her sweaty salt flesh had hit his deep wound and then rubbed the open edges of skin on the gash while the Hunter trod the nearly invisible trail left by the two Hunters ahead of them. The Yautja had supported her leg as though there had been no injury in his flesh. She was amazed at his tolerance for pain. No wonder the police reports warned that when you shot one, he just kept on coming. Best to empty your weapon into them and then run like hell. Save the damage survey for later when you were certain the one you had pissed off with bullets was not following you.

They rested for awhile, waiting for all the Hunters and their females to make the summit. The Hunters closed their eyes and dozed, while the women scratched and rubbed at their skin fitfully. Traveling at night was cooler in this tropical humidity, but in spite of that small comfort the women found their tender skin was most tempting to every biting insect the forest contained. Every one of them had red raised bite marks from head to toe and the itching was almost unbearable. The Healer had used up the small amount of ointment he carried and now the women were in misery.

The remaining Yautja finally made the top, and hurriedly released their female burdens. Sprawling on the ground, the Hunters gave their legs a needed break. The unloaded women walked for a bit to exercise their legs and then rested also. Kash'ta sent his lone unburdened scout on ahead as the remainder of them continued to recover. No one spoke, they just relaxed and dozed, waiting for the explorer to return.

The Hunter returned from his reconnoiter in short order with the welcome news that the downhill side was not as steep. During the descent he had discovered a small ravine with a rock overhang and a spring. Kash'ta quickly decided they could spend the day there. He ordered the rest period over and tired Hunters knelt or squatted, allowing their precious burdens to resume position on their backs. Then one-by-one, they began the downward trek.

"Can I walk, please," Duncan begged as her Hunter again knelt for her.

"No," he gruffed and she obediently climbed aboard, burying her face in the long locks rather than trying to observe the danger of their descent in the early hours of dawn. She balanced herself as well as she could with him, hoping and praying that he could not slip again. The downward trip was still strenuous as each Yautja balanced himself and his load.

The birds had just begun their early morning chirps and calls when the party clambered into the ravine. Peeking around Kash'ta's wide bicep, Duncan was elated to see a sparkling pool of blessed refreshment. She dismounted and waited for the Healer to do his customary check of the water. When he nodded, she plunged her hands into the coolness and brought them back, cupped around her drink. The woman sipped the purest, most delicious water she had ever tasted.

While everyone had their fill, the canteens were reloaded and then the blonde woman surprised everyone by jumping into the water. Soon all the women joined her as the Hunters sat on the bank, watching and talking as their still unclothed mates bathed.

Kash'ta spoke to his crew, "This is not what we had planned, but you are all holding up bravely. I regret the female was lost to the water carnivores near the salt sea. We will replace her at our first opportunity.

"I have been asking myself questions as we have journeyed. Why did the oomans not destroy our ship when we first hid behind their satellite? Why did they wait to fire upon us until after we had placed our ship there a second time, and had boarded ooman females with us?

"I have arrived at these conclusions: they could not see us the first time we hid there, but the second time – they could. That would mean that our transport was not completely hidden the second time. Would it not?"

His crew listened and none could object to his logic. The Hunter responsible for piloting the ship stood and confessed, "The error was mine, Honorable Leader. I was too eager to rut and did not pay attention to my duty. Punish me as you will." He lowered his head in dismal surrender.

Kash'ta continued, "Your error, the error of an undisciplined pup, has cost us an irreplaceable ship, plus the lives of two females and most probably my Second. I should, but will not, demand your life as there are so few of us to begin our new Clan and I realize that few are tasked with such a critical job while in the throes of rut. Still, you do bear responsibility."

The Leader took his short blade and made five bleeding cuts upon the Hunter's torso, saying, "I would give you lashes also if I had a whip! And I would give your female to the Hunter who lost his if yours was not already carrying your offspring!" The punished one did not make a single noise as the cuts were inflicted. Afterwards he returned to his place, his head low in shame. No move was made to staunch the bleeding or administer any medication. The Hunter allowed himself to bleed out until the skin closed naturally. For the rest of his life, five horizontal scars would tell the tale of one punished for dereliction of duty.

The punished Hunter and another volunteered to go out and obtain food. Kash'ta nodded his permission and then went over to where thick undergrowth offered slight comfort over the rocky soil.

As Kash'ta lay down to try and sleep, he challenged himself silently, _have I failed? I should have made certain myself that we were hidden. Now I have lost an obstinate and_ _challenging Second, two females, and the ship. How are we to get out of here? We cannot begin our new Clan here - this planet will soon_ _be crawling with Arbitrators! We must find a way to obtain a ship and leave. Could we steal an Arbitrator's transport? Could we resume our course to the planet I selected for us, and not be tracked? _

_Matriarch, this is all your pauk-de fault! If you had not assisted in the re-creation of the Yautja female, all future offspring would be hybrid like us! We would be the Bloodlines who continued our_ _Clans honor and glory! Now all Yaut awaits the birth and growth to mating age of the new Yautja females. Some day, there will be no hybrids – we are a lost generation of Hunters without our Sire's pride. Curse you, Matriarch!_

Duncan and the other females were greatly refreshed from their bath. After drying in the dappled sunlight, they napped under the rock overhang as two of the Yautja went to procure meat. They slept on heaps of green that their mates had thoughtfully gathered and cut from the surrounding plants. While it offered no competition for a proper mattress, it was far better than trying to rest on bare rock.

The Hunters soon returned with skinned and cleaned bodies of some creatures. Duncan could not identify them and reassured herself that she probably didn't want to. A large haunch was roasted over a small smokeless fire that Kash'ta started with the same device he had used to prepare the blue healing liquid.

When the meat was charred on the outside, Kylfa took a short blade and sliced through the flesh, growling, "Come, oomans! Eat." The meat was bound to be hot, so Duncan stripped some large leaves from a plant and handed them out to her sisters to use for plates. Lining up, they each caught a rare slice dropped from the tip of Kylfa's sharp knife and sat down to consume it. They meat was tough, but flavorful and increasingly rarer toward the bone. The bright pink flesh didn't stop any of the ravenous women as they chewed laboriously at their servings.

The Hunters consumed theirs raw using hands and outer jaws as their utensils. When they had finished off every scrap of the carcasses, they went to the water to cleanse their faces and hands. The women followed suit after the Hunters had reseated themselves under the broad rock overhang.

The Healer watched the reddened, welted skins of the females as they splashed their faces down at the pool. He knew that the ooman skin was sensitive and must suffer greatly from the bites. But the ointment was gone, what could he do? Suddenly, he remembered an old remedy to soothe skin irritation and discourage further bites from his youth. In certain places in the jungles of Yaut, small creatures bit through the tough hide and fed on the blood of Hunters. This ancient remedy repelled the creatures; it might work for the oomans. He began to search the pool bank and scoured the entire perimeter without obtaining his objective. So growling something to Kash'ta, who nodded, the Healer left the ravine to go farther down the mountain.

When he returned he was bare of his shoulder plating which had been removed and used to carry soil from a rocky crevice. Taking his find to the others he gave direction. With a nod from the Leader, each of the Hunters took a large handful of dirt, placed it upon the ground directly in front of him and then, taking careful aim, peed a small amount onto it and stirred with a finger to make mud. They each wadded their mud into a ball and made to give it to their mates. The women shrank as the males approached them with the offering. Duncan looked to Kash'ta for an answer.

He responded by mimicking placing the muck on his arm and rubbing the skin. "Why?" his mate asked.

Kash'ta's limited English struggled to find a word. Finally he growled at Kylfa who made an attempt. "Bites. Heal bites. Stop bites. Under-stand?" The Hunter cocked his head at her and raised his brows, waiting for her response.

"Okay." She then turned to the rest of her group. "This is unsavory ladies, but it may just work. The wet mud may help our itching and the smell of Yautja pee may keep the little bastards at bay. It's worth a try, I guess." She lifted a fingers worth of the pungent poultice and smeared it onto her arm.

The others followed, making grimaces and scowls of distaste as they applied the urine soaked mud to their bodies. "Face too," reminded Duncan, as she rubbed it into her own. "You never know, we may have found the fountain of youth here. Who knows what this will do to our complexions!" Trying to find the humor in the situation greatly eased the other women as they began to plaster their faces a dark brown. "Urine of Youth," quipped one, "Output of Olay," offered another and "How about something natural, like 'Piss my Face?'".

The baffled Hunters looked on as their mates chattered while happily covering their skin with the mud. The females were about to apply the pungent sludge to each others backs when a loud authoritative growl penetrated their fun. "H'ko! No!" ordered Kash'ta, "Use…same!" He towered above, menacing them with his unclasped face. All the women froze and Duncan searched her mind for what the problem might be. She found nothing.

"Easy, big guy," she addressed him. "I do not understand." He bent down and grasped her hand that held the scoop of mud, pointing at her with the other hand he growled, "Use…this!" Then he strode to another woman, pointed to her and grasped her hand, "Use this!"

He was making for another hapless female when Duncan raised her hands in surrender and supplication, "Okay, okay. I think I understand." She turned around and addressed the others, Ladies! I think that each of us must only apply the mud that was given to us by our Hunter. I bet our guys do not want us to carry any scent but their own." She turned back and nodded her understanding to Kash'ta. He stood over them until they were finished, assuring that all females applied only the proper mud to another's back. When all the skin had been covered, the filthy, smelly females stood until they dried and then lay down to get some sleep. This time, the Hunters did not sleep with them, but slept at a distance which was an advantage not lost on the humans.

It was during the night of the next cycle that they finally made it down the mountain and onto flatter land. The females were allowed to walk beside their Hunter, even though it was difficult to keep up. Whenever one became exhausted her Yautja mate took hold of her and carted the dried mud, urine-scented female in his arms for a time. Even though the females feared and loathed the Hunters, they appreciated the rest periods of being carried.

Duncan noticed that the jungle had thinned out and they were now in an area of spaced trees beneath which moderate height grasses grew. As she walked she let the Yautja break trail for her and followed him through the bent and flattened grass in his wake. The sky was clear and the moon flooded the area with light. Suddenly there was movement in the trees to the right! A huge hand reached back to stop her walk and force her into a silent crouch along with the Hunter. In silence the band watched the motion grow closer until Duncan could make out tallish animals with substantial tails hopping_. Kangaroos!_ _We are somewhere in Australia!_

A thread of hope lifted her spirits as at least she was able to identify what part of Earth they had landed on and knew that she would be able to communicate with people here. They watched until the mob had bounced by and then resumed walking until another movement of large creatures rustling the grass caused the Yautja and their mates to halt. Peering through the dim light Duncan could identify a herd of cattle. "Relax, big guy," she said, "It's only cows." The breeze was in their favor and neither the kangaroos nor the cows caught their scent.

Kash'ta caught her lack of fear and realized she knew these creatures and they would not be harmed by them. He stood and clasped her shoulder, then resumed his march across the savannah. The trees were giving out and a sea of scrubby grass lay ahead. Duncan wondered where they would find shelter for the next day.

The Leader called the group to an early halt while there were still trees on the grassland. They would rest here and be provided with shade during the hot day. The group was hungry and Kash'ta turned to his female. She had known the animals; perhaps she knew which creatures would provide the best eating. He rubbed his stomach and pointed to his mouth in the interstellar sign language that indicated hunger. Duncan nodded and pointed back to the herd, then rubbed her stomach and raised a finger to her mouth. _If I'm gonna eat what he has killed, better it's a beef steak than some part from a roo! They may be great eating – I don't know, but I do know beef. Damn, it's gonna be tough. I'd give_ _anything for some Adolf's right now. I need to gain his trust. Is there some other way I could be helpful_ _to him?_ Duncan stood wondering as her Yautja and another left to hunt.

Kash'ta rumbled, ordering another to join him. They trekked back toward the cattle, as directed by his mate, to bring one or two down, leaving the others to guard the females. As they left camp, Kash'ta was surprised to find his mate following them. He pointed and growled, ordering her back.

"No! I want to help. I'm going to show you which one to kill. I don't want some rangy thin cow for supper, or some old bull. You may need my help to pick the best one."

Kash'ta again ordered the obstinate female back, this time with a mild shove and a larger growl. "Okay, okay. I can take a hint! I was just trying to help." Duncan returned to the group of women and slumped down on the ground to wait as the two Hunters disappeared into the bush.

She idly combed the sticks and leaves from her tangled hair with her fingers. Kylfa's short mate and the blonde woman came and set next to her for company. The blonde asked, "Do you know where they went?" as she nodded in the direction the Hunter's had taken.

"They are going to bring us back a steak for supper," Duncan smiled.

"You seem to be getting along with them quite well," the short woman observed.

"I'm at least managing not to piss them off," the officer quipped. "I'm trying to gain their trust. We may manage an escape eventually, perhaps when we are nearer to civilization."

Everyone heard the spooked cattle's bawling and the thunder of hooves. A cloud of dust in the distance marked the herds escape path. Fortunately the sounds were growing fainter and they didn't have to worry about a stampede overtaking them.

"Damn, they scared the whole herd!" the officer exclaimed. "Hope they caught us some food. The bugs are starting to look good to me." She grinned at the other two who made faces of repugnance. "Hey," she responded, "Bugs are eaten in many parts of the world, supposed to by high in protein, I think." Before she could say more, the other Hunters raised their heads and looked in the direction the two on the prowl for food had gone. Duncan was alert to their actions, knowing their senses where keener than hers.

With a snarled greeting, the victorious providers returned, each with a skinned and gutted yearling steer slung over his shoulder. Keen observation by the pair of Yautja had shown them that the young male prey they sought had been stripped of their seed makers. This procedure was often used by keepers of herbivores to ensure fat and tender flesh.

As the Hunters marched their kills into the camp, telltale dribbles of red blood on their faces betrayed that they had consumed, as was their right, the delectable livers of the steers. The rest of the entrails had been left in a heap as an offering for scavengers. The hides were neatly rolled up and would be turned into two sets of loincloths for the Hunters as they had done the work. With the hunting so easy, Kash'ta decided to stay here a few days to procure enough meat to preserve and hides to clothe them all.

The blonde pronounced that her father had been a butcher and that she had watched him cut meat from the hanging carcass on many occasions. Duncan took her by the hand and led her to one of the skinned steers. "Where is the tenderest meat?" she questioned.

The blonde pointed to the lumbar region, "Here, these muscles are used the least, the most tender cuts are from here." Duncan thanked her and tapped Kash'ta's arm that was sharpening his short blade with a rock in preparation for dividing the flesh between the Yautja and the oomans.

He looked down at her in annoyance and grumble rumbled, "What?"

She pointed to the area the blonde had indicated, "Meat for humans, here." His eyes grew bright and he chuffed at her boldness in claiming the best part of the kill for the females. She was a Leader who looked after her own, he knew from previous exchanges with her during this journey. It stood to reason that proper care of his ooman mate dictated that the softer meat should go to those who had puny jaws and teeth. Sometimes he thought the oomans exhausted more energy in chewing than they obtained from their food. Nodding, he neatly cleaved the meat, handing her the dripping part she had requested.

"Cook?" she asked him. He was clueless as to the meaning of the word, but understood her preference for burnt flesh as he had provided it before. This time, he took the laser and gave the chunk a few hissing blasts, after first removing it from her grasp and placing it upon a rock. She nodded back to him in gratitude and carefully tried to skewer the sizzling piece with several sticks she had found. The blunt sticks could not penetrate the meat.

With a huff of exasperation, Kash'ta grabbed the sizzling chunk in his bare hand and carried it to the waiting females. Placing it down on a flat rock, he took the blade and carved neat slices and fanned them out for the women to select from. Then he returned to carve up the raw meal his Hunters were famished for.

It was tough, but the women did not complain. Their hunger seasoned the meat well and they threw themselves into eating it. Holding up a slice in bare hands as the delectable juice ran through her fingers was not the way that Duncan usually enjoyed a steak. But she had to admit that even without salt this tasted good. The charred outside, the slightly red center - made her taste buds dance. All talking ceased as human and Hunter gorged until no shred of the meat was left.

Kash'ta watched his mate lick the juices from her hands and fingers after she had finished her meat. Her mud covering had diminished so he scuffed aside the roots of the grass with his taloned feet and dug up some soil. Wetting it thoroughly, he scooped up a wad of the mud in his hand and presented it to her. She nodded in recognition and began to apply it, actually grateful there was an answer to the itching and an effective repellent against the insects. Her Hunter wandered away and plopped under a nearby tree. He wished for a hot soak in a ship board pool and found himself nodding off as the day's heat began to build.

As he slipped into dreams, he saw an unknown ooman female approach him, dressed in the royal attire of a Matriarch. "Kash'ta," she began, "you have disgraced yourself! Stealing a ship? Murdering other Hunters? Abducting females and then letting them die under your leadership? Truly you are a hybrid! Unworthy of being called Hunter or ooman! His anxiety awakened him and he tossed restlessly, his own thoughts continuing to accuse him. He cursed the Matriarch who haunted him even in dreams.

* * *

The second was gravely injured. He had found a large tree crotch and dragged himself into it. There he heated and applied the painful healing medication to his bruised, bitten and crushed knee, and lower leg. After his ringing howl of agony had frightened all the nearby wildlife, he waited. Waited and slept to preserve his strength. The Yautja's superior healing ability, along with the medication, would hopefully act together to preserve his life. If not, he would use the last of his strength to drop from the tree. On the jungle floor his body would soon disintegrate as the native life forms dined upon his rotting flesh. Even his bones would be preyed upon by creatures large and small and whatever they might leave would soon be consumed by the jungle itself as vines grew over the remnants and fallen leaves buried them.

The Blue Planet cycles went by, and the wounded Hunter kept to his perch, often dozing. His canteen was emptied by the third cycle, but he could not climb down to refresh it. Pulling at the vines surrounding his post he fashioned a long length which he tied around his canteen and then lowered into the river below. When the canteen was full, he carefully pulled it back up. He was able to use this several times daily to quench his great thirst. As he healed, he spent less time sleeping and began to observe the environment around him. There were many strange animals unlike any he had seen before.

A small creature ambled across the forest floor, sniffing and snuffling at everything as it looked for edibles. It had an amazing coat of stiff long bristles that looked like thorns. The Second watched as the thorn coat did not bend easily when it walked through the brush and concluded it was a coat designed for defense.

He watched more of the large, scaly, long faced and thick-tailed animals that had attacked him. They seemed constantly hungry and watchful for any other creature to enter the water or doze off upon the bank. He was amazed at how fast they could move for a short distance upon the land.

By the tenth day, he was ravenous. He slowly flexed the knee and found he could move it. There was pain but not beyond what he could tolerate. Slowly he stood in the tree and let the leg begin to bear his weight. It held strong and he knew he could begin to use it. The limb would be very prone to reinjury for a time so he must be careful.

He lowered himself to the ground and gingerly walked back to the large sea. The trees along the edge were too small to hold him, but he could walk along beside them and duck into the lush growth should he need to disappear. His backside had become dry and irritated from sitting in the tree and he longed for a hot soak and ointment rubbed into his scales. He also desired to hunt something that might provide a large enough hide to fashion a loincloth from. Protection of one's parts was important – especially in an alien environment.

He trekked along, with the sea and the sunrise to his left, the land and mountains to his right, sleeping by day and only traveling at night when he captured small lizards and rodents to feed upon. On the third night he was surprised to see lights traveling inside the forest. His leg was nearly healed and he plunged into the small trees to get a closer look. As the small trees were overtaken by larger ones, he left the ground and leapt from trunk to wavering trunk until he saw a vehicle track on the ground. The track was along a wide fairly smooth path that had been cut through the jungle. Close examination of the pattern showed him that there had been two vehicles which had come this way only a short time ago. He reasoned that ooman settlements must not be far away and again went back to the beach where the going was easier.

He followed the shoreline until he stood at the mouth of a bay made by where another river emptied into the sea. Across the bay were the lights of a small ooman settlement. The river was too wide at this point to cross without entering it. Not wishing to encounter those toothed water creatures with jaws as strong as one of his traps, the Hunter decided to hike further inland, following the waterway until it narrowed. Perhaps there would be a place to safely cross farther upstream.

All night he followed the meandering run as it swerved through the jungle terrain. The trees were larger here and afforded him a causeway well above the water. He hurled himself from tree to tree clawing into the bark with taloned fingers and toes. Finally, near daybreak, the river had thinned to a smaller stream. He spent the early hours fashioning a strong woven length from the indigenous vines and fastened it to the stoutest tree he could find along the bank. He should wait until nightfall, but impatience drove him on. Kash'ta's new Clan was doomed he had decided, and he needed to find a way off this rock. With luck, he could return to Yaut and claim no knowledge of the whereabouts or antics of Kash'ta and crew. Better to be an unfairly treated hybrid there, then to die without securing any offspring following a poor leader.

Holding the vine, which was secured out over the water on a strong thick branch, he walked back over the bank as far as possible on a lower branch. Then, sprinting forward towards the water with true power in his healed leg propelling him, he reached the trunk and pushed off over the running stream with all his might. The vine swung far out over the water, allowing the Hunter to come within grasping distance of the branched limbs of the other shore. There was no time to select for strength as his hand found the supple branch, and grabbed it as his other hand released the vine. The thin bough bent nearly to the water under his considerable weight, but did not break. He was able to grasp other branches as it bent and soon scrambled to the far side's tree trunks in safety – he had crossed the water!

Now he turned to follow the river's meander back to the bay and to where the small ooman settlement lay. In that settlement, he hoped to find information about the nearest city where the locally pregnant females gathered for inspection by a Healer. As he traversed the trees, he thought about what he might say to the Healer that would afford him an honorable transport back to Yaut.

He had not rested during this cycle's daylight until he caught sight of the small town. He could see roads and vehicles rolling along them. Finding a secure spot high up, the Hunter finally slept until the night.

He awakened before the moon's rays broke over the water and he could hear the sounds of a few ooman vehicles in the distance. He traveled toward the sounds, coming down once from the trees to sip from a small trickling creek that slipped through the tangle of roots making up the jungle floor. Going on, the trees suddenly stopped. He peered from around a trunk to see an expanse of engineered roadway and watched as the forward lights of the ooman's vehicles occasionally roared by him. He would stay in the tree line and make his way back toward the lights of the settlement by the sea. Soon, he would know where the Healer transports landed. Soon he would be off this Paya-forsaken rock!

Lacking a working cloaking device, the Second stayed hidden on the roof of an abandoned old building on the edge of the town. The structure could still hold his weight, so he climbed the side and took position on the away side of the roof peak, peering over the edge to spy on the streets and walkways. He had been awake for several cycles now, but as he was young he could go some time without sleep.

Oomans walked in front of the buildings across the street from him. There were young males, old females accompanied by small panting creatures held in check by collars and lines, and a few couples. He watched them all and was particularly interested in the many types of vehicles rolling beneath his perch. The warm Blue Planet sun baked his scales as he stretched luxuriously upon the sloped shingles. What a pleasant place for a nap! Confident of his hiding place, the Hunter allowed himself to enjoy a short doze, taking a moment to hook his dewclaws into the roof squares to provide an anchor against slippage.

As the Hunter slept, he did not realize that messages from the Arbitrators were flooding the law offices across the planet. The message alerted law enforcement and the military of the potential presence of a band of dangerous Yautja on the surface, possibly accompanied by kidnapped women. Humans were requested to report any suspicious sightings.

The few officers of the small town's police station read the communication from the Federal Police with a lack of enthusiasm. Nothing exciting had happened here since the old sea captain the town was named for had landed. They would keep their eyes open as they patrolled the town or fielded calls, but expected to find nothing.

The slumbering Yautja started awake from a strange loud noise coming from the road below. Awakening with a jerk, he rolled over onto his stomach and pulled himself up the roof to peek over the top. What he saw made his side jaws gape in amazement. Down below was an ooman astride a two-wheeled ground vessel, his black-gloved hands holding the grips at the end of two protruding bars. The black machine gleamed in the sunlight and sinuously hugged the road curves as it zoomed out of sight. The Hunter watched in fascination as the vehicle and rider roared down the road and into the town.

The Hunter envied the shining, sleek transport that sported a growl worthy of Cetanu. He slid down off the roof, landing gracefully on his feet. If he was to go into the town, he needed some clothing, he decided.

Stealthing through several backyards, the bottom-side naked alien found a clothesline with sheets and towels hung out to dry. Admiring a burgundy flat sheet billowing in the slight breeze, he snatched it from the line and was off to another hiding place where he could fold and tear the fabric to form an acceptable loin cloth. At last attired, he set off sneaking across the rooftops to find the thunderous, growling machine.

It did not take long to find as the Yautja's sensitive hearing, as well as the scent of fresh exhaust assisted in locating it. The ooman rider had parked it along side many other similar transports in a line along one side of a street. Bldgs has bright flashing lights, smoke and loud music came form it. The rider then went into the building below him. The Second secured himself on the building's roof to wait and observe the landscape. As he looked around, he saw other riders coming. Their machines were smaller than the one he had followed, but were still admirable for their sleekness and their growls. The ooman's parked them in the growing line and entered the building below him. He had noticed the loud sounds coming from the structure, and they grew briefly louder any time an ooman entered. As the light dimmed, bright lights began to glow, and some to flash around him. They made an annoying buzz to his ears and as it was dark now, he climbed down to the line of strange tranports below.

Once on the ground, he looked at the row, evaluating all the small ground ships for size, strength and appearance, he finally decided that the one he had followed here was still his first choice. He went to it, and, grabbing the handles, tried to move it backward. The back wheel moved but the two front pieces that went down to the wheel would not budge, so with a grunt the Hunter picked it up and moved it out of the row to where he could fully inspect it.

The door behind him gave a squeak and he ducked down behind his prize to hide, watching a ooman emerge and go to another vehicle. After mounting, the male took something from his pocket and inserted it into the machine. Taking the handles he turned his right hand and the machine roared to life. It backed out of the line to the road, the Second saw some hand and left movements and the strange transport shot away. Soon the rider was nowhere to be seen. The rider had made some other movements with his left hand and the Second was not sure what the motions had to do with running the machine.

Leaving the metal vehicle in place, he melted back into the shadows to watch. Over the next few hours several oomans emerged and rode off on their two-wheeled wonders. Each time, the Hunter watched them insert a bit of metal into somewhere on the machine, and he noticed it was not always the same place. The turned their right hands and then their left hand pushed a button before they rode off. He watched closely but did not understand how hand movement affected the mechanism. It was obvious to the Hunter that it would take a bit of study, trial and error to learn to operate this beast. It was also obvious that he needed a small metal object in order to start the machine. He placed the bike back in its parking space and waited for its rider to emerge.

Some hours later, a tall ooman attired in black leather adorned with fringe tried to make his inebriated way from the porch to his motorbike. He nearly fell as he tried to swing his leg over the saddle. Trying again, he successfully sat his flat ass on the worn seat leather and fumbled in a pants pocket for the key. Finding it, he inserted it, and rotated his hand. The machine's display lights came on, and then a light shot out of the front. The Hunter watched closely as the ooman was using his left hand to reach over and pushed a button. Then he used his right hand to rev the engine to a mighty roar. He was about to put it in gear with his left foot while he compressed the clutch handle on the left handlebar, when the force of a Mack truck hit him from the side and knocked him from his seat. He got a vague impression of a very large form with flying braids and a bizzarely huge, open mouth with incisors bigger than a dog. Then he passed out.

The Hunter caught the still running mechanism as it's rider fell to the dirt. He dragged it from its space around to the back of the building leaving a clear trail of footprints and sideways tire marks. Then he hauled it through the trees until he found a cleared two-track that would afford him a private practice space.

In the relative security of the jungle, the alien closely examined the rumbling vehicle, brushing his hand down the smooth black tank graced with images of red flames. His finger pads touched the unreadable English letters that spelled out, Boss Hoss on the side. The Hunter's mandibles spread in pleasure, this machine was beautiful! He would learn to operate it.

He felt the weight balanced in his hands as they gripped the bars. Gracefully he swung up onto the seat and settled – it felt good. The rumbling ran through the metal and into his body giving him a feeling of power. He throttled it backward and slipped the clutch, the metal monster immediately complained and bucked, surprising the Hunter who soon found himself with one side of his face wiping the ground and his leg shoved well into the mud by the heavy machine. He gathered scrapes and bruises during few false starts as he figured how to control it and made a few brief sprints down the narrow street as he learned his balance and gained some practice in how to accelerate and stop. He even practiced turning it off and restarting the rumbling engine.

This gave him the confidence to finally take it out on the roadway that other vehicles were using. Once more he started the behemoth and successfully cruised down the road and merged onto the highway. Once there, he opened it up and thrilled to the throb between his thighs as the wheels ate up the highway. He began to swerve across the lanes learning to balance with the change of direction as he made large letter 'S' forms weaving in between the traveling cars and trucks.

The town police responded to the frantic call from some blithered yank that 'somebody stole my ride!' Perhaps there would be a bit of excitement this evening. They made for their cars and the main highway leading out of town.

Oncoming traffic was treated to an amazing sight as the Yautja sped down the highway. A powerful motor bike with a bizarre rider aboard, his rasta locks flying and horrific face wide with unholy glee which quickly ebbed as the sting of night-flying insects hitting the intra-mandible webbing at one hundred miles per hour made him wince. It was not bad tasting though, he decided, wiping the smashed goo from the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

The ride was exhilarating! The Second felt invincible as he rode his rumbling steed and chortled at the ooman faces as he wove in and out the oncoming traffic. He would be remembered! He wondered what stories they would tell others of their encounter on the highway this evening. He opened the throttle until he was running flat-out and screamed around the bend in the road, a great dark mop head of streaming locks flying out behind him.

As he rounded the curve and straightened back out, his eyes opened wide at the roadblock of Queensland Police in front of him, their cars pulled across the road, lights blaring full beams and a row of oomens standing with weapons drawn. He chortled at the irony, he would never leave this planet but at least he could take some of them with him.

Pointing the bike's fore fender straight at the barrier ahead, he laid forward on the tank presenting as small a target and possible. A hail of bullets greeted him and would not stop. He felt the hot pellets hit and tear through his flesh.

The police saw the rider as he slumped to one side, pulling the mighty engine down until a spray of sparks spouted from the careening machine along with the scream of metal grinding into the road. The police scattered as the mound of motocycle and Yautja screeched toward them and crashed into the front tire of one of their SUVs. Immediately the impact ripped and lit the bike's gas tank. Police were running for their lives when the explosion smacked them to the ground as a ball of fire and light lifted the front of the SUV up like a rearing horse. The Hunter was thrown from the impact and rode his blood and flesh underneath the parked vehicle. The recovered police ran to the other side of the patrol vehicle.

No alien body greeted them. Instead, drips of green bright blood marked a trail which they followed into the trees beside the road. Relentlessly it dripped onward over fallen limbs and ground plants until it reached the edge where the great river met the saltwater and blended with the rhythms of the tide. The men looked out into the liquid darkness and a few shined flashlights over the rough surface.

Out in the water's middle, a shapeless turmoil rolled and twisted in the struggle to rend strong flesh from heavy bones. Yautja meat was tough, but saltwater crocodiles were not terribly picky.


	15. Into The Light

**Chapter 14: Into the Light**

**"_Every child begins the world again." – Henry David Thoreau_**

"Sally, are you concerned at all?" asked Melanie as they lounged in the Matriarch's greenly cool garden, reading translated texts about pup-rearing and sharing notes.

"About what?" mumbled Sally, deep into her tome.

"If you'll love them or not."

Sally abruptly put down her tablet and looked at her friend, "No. I already love them. You are worried?"

"A little, I guess. I mean when I visit her and talk to her I do feel love…but they will look like their fathers won't they?"

"Basically, yes. Female Yautja have some differences but at first both sexes look much alike – except for the obvious. Myn'dill tells me that their DNA has been altered so that the Yautja traits will come out and ours will be…how did he put it? Submissive. So, they will be immature versions of the Hunters you've seen. You've seen the pictures in these books! No locks yet, just the growth bumps, bare mandibles and jaws – the tusks and teeth erupt later. I think they're cute!" the Matriarch proclaimed.

"Well…I'm just not sure. Seeing a picture is one thing. Sally," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "…I don't find those baby pictures very appealing at all. Finally having her in my arms, I'm worried that she will be so different that I won't feel like her mother…like I can love her. And if that happens, I'll feel ashamed and like a failure. I'll be a failure to the Hunters won't I? I'll be a failure to you."

Sally shook her head, "Mel, honestly, I honestly think you will fall in love with her the moment you lay eyes on her. It's not doing you any good to worry about something that's not even happened yet, you know."

"I can't help it, Sally," Melanie replied, and returned to her reading while Sally pondered what the Hunters would do if a mother rejected its own child. She did not think it would be pretty. But she had witnessed the way that Mel touched and cooed to her daughter still trapped in the manufactured womb. She did not believe that the woman didn't already love her unborn daughter – no matter what she looked like.

* * *

Elite Elder Arbitrator Aldúlfr had been summoned to the Matriarch's apartment to meet with her. That meant her translator, Theron, would be there also as Aldúlfr's ooman language ability had not progressed very far. He was growing to appreciate the much younger Dor'an Hunter since he and Myn'dill had humbled the translator in the arena. Something had changed Theron's attitude, and Aldúlfr suspected it was not just losing the spar to a Healer. Something had happened to tilt Theron's world view from arrogance to one of near humility – especially around the females. The Consort didn't know what had happened, but he appreciated it. Although he rather missed the old itch in his palms to surround and crush the Dor'an's metal neck collar whenever he came near.

Aldúlfr opened the doorway connecting his apartment with Sally's and out of long habit, quickly surveyed the room before he entered. The door connected a hallway in his domicile with the grand receiving room in the Matriarch's living quarters. Over on one side, his ooman female sat sipping a beverage while her translator spoke in her difficult hissing tongue.

She turned to greet him and Theron stood and nodded his respect. "Come, join us," she waved the Consort over to sit with them and poured him a drink. She knew that he enjoyed the native fruit tea just as much as she did. While she merely sipped at the enjoyably warm brew, Aldúlfr sloshed down his mug in one long draw and then placed it on the table. Then he turned with an expectant look to Sally, his eyes plainly stating, 'why did you call me here?'

"My Honorable Consort," she began, Theron automatically beginning the translation for her. By now Aldúlfr was used to the human-yautja stereo and, although it was Theron's voice he paid attention to, he knew the words were Sally's and he looked at her, while listening to the staccato clicks and rumbles.

"I would like to offer you the position of Sire for the daughters of your bloodline Ulfr at their birth."

Aldúlfr was unexpectedly flooded with emotion. These two female offspring, the hope of the continuation of his bloodline, were being offered to him as his own. He would replace the now dead Ulfr. He would be granted the privilege of inspecting and approving them after their birth, as well as forming a relationship with them as though he had seeded them himself. He was being extended the honor of claiming them as Sire, not as ForeSire.

He had speculated that Sig'dan's close relationship with the Matriarch, along with being half-sibling to Ulfr, she would choose the young Healer for the role of Sire. But no – she had offered it, more properly in his opinion, to him – her Consort and the bloodline Elder. He nodded his great head and frost-sprinkled locks in approval, his quickly suppressed scent and slight mandible tremor the only betrayal of his feelings.

"Sei, I am most honored, Sal-lee."

"Good, we are agreed then. I am honored they will claim you as Sire," she stated and nodded politely before returning to the privacy of her bedroom. Once in her room she sat on the bed and closed her eyes, allowing a moment of grief for her Ulfr. It pained her to the core of her soul that he was not here to share in the birth of his daughters. She hoped, beyond hope, that somehow his spirit would be allowed to witness their coming into the world.

Theron congratulated Aldúlfr on his new responsibility, all the while scenting a slight taint of grief in the air. He though about it for a bit, after they both left and he sat alone in the room. _She must be grieving for the dead Hunter, Ulfr. They had a relationship._ Theron could have slapped himself in the face, of course they'd had a relationship – two of the females had been sired by Ulfr, albeit in the laboratory. And Sig'dan was his sibling. _So she had been the mate of both brothers, and apparently at the same time. They were a truly understanding pair to work out sharing a mate!_

It had been a very long time since Theron had mated. He had been a full Hunter in time to have enjoyed several rounds of the mating season with his own kind, and had been well sought after by the females due to his superior performance in his Chiva and the Hunt Trials.

Now, with the extinction of the Yautja females, all that was left to him was either to try to banish all thoughts of sex from his mind, or engage in self-pleasure, or turn to the stand-ins created by Dor'an science. The stand-ins were a new class in Clan society consisting of young males who failed at their training who had the option of either being humanely culled from the rank of Warrior to work in the trades, or surgically turned into facsimile Yautja females - receptacles for frustrated warriors' seed. Many chose death, but after the first 'volunteers' broke precedent, there continued to be a trickle of those who chose the surgeons' table.

Over time, some trainers began to favor certain males that they knew would fail and even began courting them during the training. Such behavior horrified Dor'an Elders, but interested in preserving the sanity of their greatly frustrated senior warriors – they looked away.

Contemplating the relationship between the Matriarch and her Hunter mates, as well as the 'solution' his Clan had chosen out of loyalty to their race and the rampant discontent that threatened the fabric of society, a small idea implanted itself into the primal procreative area of Theron's brain. _What would it feel like to mate with an ooman?_

The small, barely conscious thought would embed itself, and as all ignored thoughts, would begin to grow. The translator would find that sooner or later this thought must be dealt with. It would be his choice as to how to engage it, but the longer it was ignored, the stronger it became and would take over more and more of him until he faced it.

* * *

Fourteen cycles after confessing her anxiety, an edgy Melanie and anxious Sally were standing in front of the first pup container to be opened, along with Healer Myn'dill and his aseigan birthing assistants. All the High Council Sires, the Consort and Sig'dan loomed high over them in the upper chamber above the growing room where they could see as each pup was delivered. Even though Sig'dan was now a full Healer, as a Sire he stood with the others and did not assist down below. Expectation was running high for the Sires, who waited to see the first healthy female Yautja in over one hundred cycles, and also for the excited human females who were as jumpy as eight-year olds about to open their Christmas presents.

The large womb in front of them bulged out on one side as the pup turned in its unchoreographed water ballet. Then a hand or foot made an outcropping on the other side. Myn'dill watched the changing shape of the womb and then let out a clicking chortle, "She is large, there is not much room for her and she wants to be born." He set his surgical laser to exactly the correct setting so that the surrounding tissue would be cut open without penetrating to a depth that would sever the inner membrane. Then expertly, he began to cut an opening in the side of the large vessel of flesh to free the pup. Bright green living fluid welled up in the cut and ran down the sides to drip down on the floor.

As the Healer operated, his two assistants stood, one on each side, ready to catch the slippery newling as its small world opened to reveal a new world of relative cold and the brightness of heat and light.

Myn'dill continued his concentrated cutting until he had created a sizeable flap, then using the laser again he teased it away from the strong transparent membrane that held the fluid around the floating pup. Sally got as close as possible trying to see her first glimpse of Ulfrde through the veined window. All she could see was a rolling dark shape. While the Healer prepared to now dissect the membrane, he growled a command to his assistants and they lifted their cloth covered arms, preparing to receive the slickly wet newborn no matter which way she should decide to flow with the about-to-be-released deluge. Below the bench which supported the wombs, the floor sloped to a drainage area so as to direct the fluid away from the workers.

Still in her watery universe, the pup's face was suddenly pressed against the membrane. Unexpectedly, she opened her eyes then quickly closed them against the never-before-seen brightness. For that brief moment, now frozen in time, Sally glimpsed directly into the eyes of her first daughter, straight into deep brown eyes that spoke of the tiny female's Sire, and Sally felt an unknown depth of love wash over and submerge her - her understanding of love forever changed by an engagement that was beyond description or comprehension.

Events flowed in slow motion for her after that as she cherished each second of meeting this daughter, named for her beloved Sire, for the first time. This daughter who was her living connection to the past she had shared with Ulfr - as well as the casting of her own self into the future.

Myn'dill divided the membrane in one lightning swipe of the precision tool and Ulfrde immediately belly surfed out feet first into the waiting cloth of a nimble assistant. She was rapidly hoisted upside down to allow fluids to drain from her mouth. Sally had studied thoroughly about how newborns were delivered but was still taken aback at how roughly the babe was handled. Not unkindly, but casually as one would lift a cheesecloth full of curds to drain the whey. The tiny tuskless mandibles opened wide and the wet mouth opened as Ulfrde gasped in her first air and let out not a child's cry, but a bellow of extreme displeasure. Everyone laughed as the air filled with Yautja chortling and one human voice of joy, "Let me hold her!"

The pup's umbilical webbing was clipped near where it attached to her rectum. The short tail left would dry and withdraw into her body to be reabsorbed. She was dried and then passed to the impatient Matriarch. Sally reached her arms out to accept the already vigorous, wiggling and growling bundle.

"There, there," Sally cooed to the baby as she was placed into the crook of the Matriarch's strong arm and the other arm surrounded her protectively. "It's alright, it's alright - you are safe, Ulfrde. Welcome to the world." The pup stopped moving and was silent as she tried to take in the face hovering over hers. The image was blurry and the pup could not yet process what she was seeing. But the voice she heard was known and she snuggled close to the warmth holding her, finding comfort in this strange newness.

Sally looked around at everyone, beaming with happiness and then down in wonderment at the living extension of herself who was currently looking at her own hand. The hand soon graduated from being pondered to being placed in her mouth whereupon the young one began sucking earnestly. "She's hungry! Is there food prepared for her?" the Matriarch anxiously questioned.

One of the assistants handed Sally a small tubular flask fitted with a soft leathery nipple. After rubbing the nipple on her own body to gather her scent, she held it to the pup's mouth after the assistant gently removed the unsatisfying hand. The pup huffed once and, instinctively recognizing food, rooted around the nipple and then used her diminutive mandibles to guide it into her mouth. A loud sucking sound immediately followed.

Love-stricken Sally could only watch in awe. Her daughter was perfect! From the large beautiful brown eyes, up to the slightly rounded forehead that gently sloped back, to the edges of her crown waves and the small knobs down the sides of her scalp where locks would grow someday. Her arms and hands were strong, with tiny soft talons that just reached to not quite the end of her fingers and toes. She eagerly grasped the flask that Sally held while her already strong legs kicked in contentment to the rhythm of her nursing. Her smooth scales were variations of light and dark brown that slowly became darker as they rounded from her belly over her sides and to her spine.

Suddenly Sally heard Myn'dill's chiding voice, "Honorable Matriarch, you have…more…not one." She laughingly handed her daughter to a waiting assistant who kept feeding her and whisked her away to be measured, examined and then submitted for the observation and approval of her waiting Sire.

Sally glanced up at Aldúlfr, her face blushing from deep emotion and grinning from ear-to-ear. He nodded back at her, his upper mandibles spanning beyond his cheeks in a hearty Yautja grin as he broadcast his bloodline's pride. For a moment they shared an unspoken connection to his now dead offspring and her departed lover, manifested through this living child.

Sally tore herself away from her Consort's eyes, and went with the birthing team to the next womb, waiting to be presented with Ulfrde's full sister, Arndís. Myn'dill again took great care in opening the womb to free the pup. This little one was slightly smaller than Ulfrde and should have come out easily, but as she slid from her container her strong hands gripped the newly opened edge of her organic home. For a moment Sally held her breath, thinking that the pup would be allowed just to hang there. But the alert assistants were on her in a heartbeat, one holding her body while the other gently pried her hands away. Myn'dill clicked and chortled again as the dripping pup was held upside down and silently gasped her first breath. She was then separated from her cord and dried before being handed to Sally.

Arndís let her bottom jaw sag as she listened to her Bearer's voice soothe her. She looked somewhat bewildered as her miniature mandibles waved about and her unfocused eyes scanned, trying to make sense of anything. Sally ran her hand over the infant's still soft cranium and in response the baby gurgled and grunted in pleasure. _She likes my touch! _Sally exclaimed to herself, smiling at her daughter. The child's eyes were a beautiful golden yellow, reminding Sally of the gold in Auldulfr's orbs. Her soft scales also bore a golden tint along with the more common dark brown. _Perhaps you will be Matriarch someday, and I might call you Queen Midas!_

Sally had designated that Sig'dan's pup was to be located right next to Ulfr's daughters, so her decanting was next. Melanie stood biting at her upper lip, anxiously waiting for her daughter to be placed in her arms. She looked up at Sig'dan, to see that he was standing with his face nearly pressed into the glass. "Can he join us?" she asked Sally.

"It is not usual, but why not?" The Matriarch motioned to the Hunter to join them below, and after an indulgent nod from the High Council Leader, Sig'dan dashed down the stairway, nearly tripping in his excitement.

The Matriarch had requested that the birthing team open the womb, but then hold on parting the final membrane until Sig'dan's arrival. The team waited impatiently for the few minutes it took until the young Hunter rushed into the room. Regaining his composure, he stood beside Mel as the final cut was made. In the soundproof room he could not hear the clicks and grunts of good humor above him as the High Council Leader spoke of remembering the birth of his first pup.

Sig'dan held his breath when the membrane parted and his own flesh and blood easily slipped out into the waiting cloth. He did not breathe until the pup, dangled upside down by a single foot, inhaled her first portion of clean Yaut air and then squawked out her first cry. The assistant dried the soaked pup and handed her to Melanie. Sig'dan stood close as she tenderly took the pup and held it against her breast, while looking down at her exclaiming without reservation, "Oh, she is beautiful!"

"Yes, she is," replied Sig'dan and reached to touch one little arm. Her lovely head was crowned with flowing waves nearly identical to her Sire, but more diminutive as befitting a female. Her skin was dark just like his and when she opened her eyes her parents saw the sweet shade of perfect soft brown that stared back at them.

The pup responded to both voices and the great warmth of her Bearer by giving another squawk and several grunts. "See if she is hungry," ordered Sally and a feeding flask was handed to Mel who rubbed her scent on it and then held it to the small mouth. Halfway into a huff, her miniature mandibles grasped the leather and drew in her first nutrition of recreated Yautja milk with great loud sucks. Sig'dan chortled softly as his pup devoured the feeding, his eyes soft with affection.

"With an appetite like that she will grow quickly!" he exclaimed. A member of the birthing crew was on hand to take the baby Yautja so she could be given her first examination. Mel turned to Sally who immediately encouraged her, "Go on, go with your daughter. You too Sig-dan!" Then Sally turned to the next waiting pup.

For nearly the rest of the cycle Myn'dill carefully opened each womb and brought forth the pup within. Each birth was slightly different, with one acrobatic pup bracing herself against the fleshy firmness of the womb that was still intact, so that she stayed within as her private ocean was flushed. Myn'dill had to reach inside to gently take her limbs away from the sides and pull her out, while her Sire up above radiated pride at her agility and strength.

By dusk, all the daughters had successfully been brought into the light, held, examined and then ritualistically shown to their Sires. Sally had just left the birth scene with the team and was walking by the Sires as they gathered around their pups who were sleeping in tiny raised box beds or being held by assistants. She stood and watched the Sire of the last pup to be born as he was about to examine her. After stalking over to where she lay, he reached beneath her warming cloth to hold her up by a foot. He turned her, growling and squalling, this way and that as he critically examined her. Then taking the pad of his thumb, he poked and prodded her body while she complained vigorously.

Sally was horrified and grasped Myn'dill by the arm. "Look at him!" she cried out and pointed in horror at the sight. The Healer followed her finger and then quickly turned back to her, "No fear, Honorable Matriarch. No fear. Pup good."

With his reassurance, Sally calmed a bit but still watched the Sire like a hawk. After glancing at the Matriarch's commotion, he nodded his satisfaction to her and then handed the squaller to an assistant. He was immediately the recipient of many shoulder shakes and hands slammed against his back. Sally still scrutinized him as her daughter was carried back to bed and realized that his Clan mark was the same as her translator, Theron. Perhaps he could clarify this Sire 'examination' for her.

Sig'dan left Melanie with their pup at its bedside and joined Sally, giving her face a knuckle of affection. "This has been glorious, Honorable Matriarch! All the pups are in perfect health. You are to be congratulated!"

"As are you, Sig'dan!" Sally replied, happily tired from the experience. "Myn'dill tells me the pups will stay here for the next few days to be monitored, after that they will be moved into my quarters! Mel and your baby are going to move into quarters right next to mine. Can you believe that? I'm so happy I could bust!"

"As am I," he beamed back. "I will be with my pup and Mel-a-nee now, but I will…visit you as soon as possible." With that he touched her shoulder in a gentle but unmistakable way. Sally understood he wanted to convey that in spite of his excitement over his pup, he still valued her and wanted to be with her. She reached back and stretched to caress his shoulder ever so briefly and then returned to Matriarchal composure.

The voice of her Consort came, requesting to escort her safely back to her quarters, as translated by Sig'dan. "Please," she nodded, taking his proffered arm. They walked in a dignified fashion from the room, picking up Yin and Yang from a waiting area nearby. Both of the guards nodded and congratulated the pair in the traditional way.

"Honorable Matriarch, Honorable Consort – we give welcome to your twenty daughters. May they always have honor and mate with many great Hunters!"

Sally wondered what they had said. She would likely have laughed to understand that the ancient well-wish incorporated a reference to mating into the praise for having a baby.

Theron dutifully arrived on the scene to accompany them and reassume his role as translator. Sally questioned him regarding what the guards had said. He promptly turned and asked them.

"Honorable Matriarch, it was the usual greeting to those who have borne a pup," and he explained to her what they had said. In true fashion she laughed.

"I'm surprised that there wasn't a reference to c'ntlip in it!" she teased.

"Well, what do your people do?"

"Traditionally, the father passes out a disease-causing bolus to the other males which is lit with fire and then the smoke it produces may be held in the mouth or inhaled into the lungs, and the females ask how much it weighed at birth and what it's name is."

"How…strange," Theron commented. "Why would a Sire give other males a substance to cause disease in celebration of his new pup?"

"Tradition. It was begun long before we knew that it produced disease."

"Your Sires should come up with a substitute. Perhaps sharing fruit or something."

Sally snorted at the image of a new father passing out pears for girls and bananas for boys.

* * *

Sig'dan returned from speaking with Sally to the mother of his pup. They stood at the infant's bedside until she fell asleep, occasionally kicking a bit and uttering a soft growl in her slumber. "Is she dreaming?" asked Mel.

"Possibly," he answered. "Research shows that our young are able to dream even before birth."

"Sweet dreams, little one," her mother whispered.

"Why do you wish for her to dream about tasting something sweet?"

Mel smiled and turned her face to him, "It is an expression wishing that her dreams will be pleasant, not bad."

He nodded and then asked, "Are you tired?"

"Exhausted, but giddy!"

Sig'dan was confused, "What is…gid-ee?"

"Oh I'm thrilled to see her, but I am tired."

He accompanied Melanie with her guards back to her quarters and bid the fatigued female a good rest. She entered still feeling enraptured by the sight, sound and feel of her new daughter in her arms. When she thought of Signý, her mental eyes did not capture an image of some alien life form. They saw only her precious dreaming infant with her perfect ten fingers and ten toes. Never mind that soft small claws grew from each digit. Never mind that the sweet mouth was cradled beneath a set of petite mandibles, never mind that the bumps from which locks would be born encircled the sides and back of her head – she was Melanie's daughter, grown inside her own body and carrying half of her genes. Signý was perfect and beautiful to her mother.

Sig'dan left Melanie's in a rush, he had been invited to join the other jubilant Sires in congratulating each other with toasts over rounds of c'ntlip. There had been no other occasion in his life that he had been invited to socialize with the High Council and, although exhilarated from his pup's birth, he was excited about being around such elite company.

He found the Consort also heading towards the c'ntlip establishment and they walked the rest of the way together in silence. It would only be afterwards, when excessive rounds of intoxication had relaxed the Arbitrators usual reserve, and they found themselves sharing part of the walk back together, that Aldúlfr would quietly tell his offspring of his pride in him. And it would only be after the Elder turned in the direction of his quarters and Sig'dan continued on alone, that he would realize how much he missed his brother Ulfr, and how much it must have hurt Sally to be without him this cycle.

Quietly the young Hunter signaled her on his com and awaited her reply. When it came he silently went the other way, the way that led to her quarters.


	16. Running for Your Life

**Chapter 15: Running for Your Life**

"_**Good judgment comes from experience. Experience comes from poor judgment." – Will Rogers**_

The ragtag band of Badbloods and their mates did not cross the savannah. Instead, they traveled the gradual thinning of trees where forest met grassland, keeping the rising sun on their left. Along the way they saw little in the way of danger, only an occasional hefty vehicle or two, carrying a few oomans. It was simple to melt back into the safety of the tree trunks to avoid detection.

Duncan noted that there were people traveling the rough roadway but that compared to the Yautja they were only lightly armed. _At best,_ she thought, _it would probably require a_ _small military unit to take them out, and we're not likely to come across one. _That left her best chance of freedom to somehow sneaking away from the Hunters and managing an escape. So she kept her eyes open for an opportunity as her conscience nagged, reminding of her promise to all the women that she would help them escape. Salving her scruples with the thought that she would bring back help for them did little to ease her sense of right and wrong.

She saw the Hunter's hand signaling each other and then Kash'ta tugged at her arm. He was turning them back into the thicker part of the forest because a multi-vehicle caravan had been reported by the spotter. For some reason, several truckloads of oomans had chosen to intrude upon this landscape of herds of cattle and native wildlife. The Yautja seemed extra concerned to Duncan about being detected. She wondered if it was because none of the women could cloak.

The women scrambled along as the Hunters took their mates back toward the mountains, into to where the jungle reigned. It was there by a small pond that they first encountered the stocky, dark, indigenous oomans. Four of them stood at the water's edge, their strong bodies nearly naked except for wrist bands and a band about their waists. One had what looked like a hatchet tucked at his middle, another had several small dead lizards stashed at his waist. They stared with wide eyes at the Hunters and the women they had come face-to-face with. The Hunters splayed their jaws and huffed in the strange ooman's scents. Surprisingly, there was hardly any detectable fear, instead, the odor of wonderment and possibly even reverence wafted through the air.

One of the dark oomans stepped forward and spoke something that neither the Hunters nor the women could understand. He bowed his head and motioned to them to come along as he and his fellows began to walk away, glancing back over their shoulders to see if anyone followed.

Kash'ta consulted with his Hunters – should they go with the odd oomans? They certainly presented no threat and had seemed to almost recognize the Yautja. They might have some supplies that the band needed. Kash'ta nodded with a grunt and all followed him as he tracked behind the strangers.

Soon they came to a village of small huts made of bent and woven branches covered with sheets of tree bark. From inside some of the dwellings and from around the camp site, small smoking fires were attended by women and children. Just at the far village edge, two women were cutting the hide from a creature with crude tools. All stopped whatever they were doing as the group of men called out to them. The entire village gathered in awed silence and gawked at the Hunters for a moment. Then, all together, they bowed their heads in what the Yautja saw as respectful submission. The village Elder came forth from the crowd, speaking strange words to them and holding out an offering of soft fur skins.

Kash'ta asked Duncan, "Understand?"

"No…sorry," she replied, "but they seem to have been expecting you."

Kash'ta took the furs from the Elder who now grinned and again bowed to the large Hunter. Kash'ta looked to Duncan who just shrugged her shoulders. From the small crowd of Aborigines, one lean man came forth and sported what to the officer was a very different accent, "I am called Amaroo, do any of you speak English?"

"I do!" exclaimed Duncan; delighted to find someone here she could understand. She felt Kash'ta begin to move protectively in front of her. "No, its okay," she soothed him. "We are just here to talk…speak." Kash'ta eyed the young man and saw no meaningful weapons on him. Slowly he backed away but still stood at his mate's side.

"I am an American," she began. "My friends and I have been kidnapped by these aliens, can you help us?" She glanced up at Kash'ta who had barely understood any of her words, then back at the Aborigine.

"I am here from the city, visiting my relatives," Amaroo explained. "I can alert the authorities when I return, assuming your friends do not harm any of us."

"I don't think they will, just stay calm around them and don't do anything threatening."

"Oh, no one will try and attack them," the young man grinned, "they worship them, or at least our ancestors did. Most of my people live in the cities now and have abandoned the old ways – all but a few. Long ago, my grandfathers say that our people worshiped beings like this. I heard many stories during my childhood, but never did I expect to really meet one! This is a great day."

"What? You worship them?" Duncan replied.

"Yes, these aliens are the relatives of the Rainbow Serpent to my people, and so we are going to be very careful around them and show great respect. Perhaps later I will be able to show you the Rainbow Serpent. Are you hungry? The people would like to serve food to you."

Duncan turned back to Kash'ta and made the sign language for hunger. He responded with a nod and she spoke again, "He says that you may bring us food."

"Please be seated over here then," Amaroo motioned to a small fire under some trees. "And may I ask, ma'am, what you have painted all over your body? It has a peculiar pungency," he noted, wrinkling his handsome broad nose.

"Oh, uh, it's mud…to keep off the mosquitoes."

"Mud and something else I think," he smiled broadly back at her.

The women and Hunters sat themselves around the fire and soon food was brought to them. Amazingly, the people knew that the Yautja preferred raw flesh, and brought them great haunches and slabs of unknown meat. For the women they brought cooked pieces, along with nuts and fruit. Then the people sat down and joined their guests in the feast.

Duncan was quickly surrounded by dark naked women sporting, like their men, nothing but an occasional waist belt or cuff for ornamentation. Her own nakedness made her feel at home around them. One curious woman fingered the dried mud on her arm which she then held out for the curious to inspect.

Amaroo spoke up, "They are curious as to your 'paint'. We paint ourselves only for ceremony."

After everyone had eaten until they could eat no more, some villagers made for their sleeping huts while others stretched out beside the fire. The aboriginal Elder motioned for their guests to make themselves comfortable.

Kash'ta and the other Hunters felt too full to make their usual tree nests, so they decided it was alright to sleep on the ground in a large circle, surrounding their mates in the center by the smoke of the licking flame. The Hunters quickly gathered branches and heaped them up, then layered large leaves on top so that the woman could sleep off the ground, somewhat protected from insects. With their tough scales, the Hunters braved sleeping on the bare ground.

Kash'ta helped Duncan climb onto the heap of her bed. She felt the sticks shift beneath the leafy cover, but it was fairly comfortable once she lay down. After all their mates were situated, the Hunters formed their circle of protection around the females with their supine bodies. With the warm fire and full stomachs, all were soon asleep except the Leader.

His mind kept reviewing the dealings that had led them to this place, wondering how he could have ordered things to be done differently, what decisions he might have changed and how that might have altered the turn of events. He felt responsible for the deaths of the females in the way an Elder feels responsible for all that happens with those on his mission. He also wondered about the fate of his second. He had never caught up with them and most certainly was dead. The brave comrade would have found some way to dispose of himself leaving as little evidence as possible, per the Yautja code.

His thoughts drifted to the Homeworld. His Sire had probably given up searching for him many cycles ago, until his group had stolen the Hunt transport and killed the guards. They were all now probably on the Arbitrators most-needing-justice list. It would only be a matter of time before they were hunted down on the Blue Planet. They needed to find a way off – quickly!

* * *

Early in the morning, Duncan was awakened to the sound of retching. Still half asleep, she slid off her bedding mound and struggled to her feet. She found one of the women in her group kneeling by the remains of the fire, puking up her guts. "Sorry," the woman mumbled, wiping her mouth with the back of a hand, "I guess something in the food last night didn't agree with me."

"No," replied the red-haired officer, "If the food was bad you'd have been ill hours ago. When was the last time you had your period?"

"The woman stopped cold, thinking. "I'm not sure, I've lost track of time, but maybe…" she counted on her fingers, stopping to reflect on events. "Oh my God, maybe six weeks ago! You think I'm pregnant?"

"I suspect we all are. The Hunter's haven't touched us since that first time, right?"

"Right."

"Well, why not? I think it's because we are pregnant. I think they only fucked us to make babies."

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" the woman exclaimed. By now all the other women were awake, as were the Hunters and villagers. The women crowded together, each one figuring in their head. Slowly it was dawning on each of them that they were carrying a child – all except Kylfa's small brunette mate. "I…ah…I wasn't raped. I think things were interrupted by the explosion on the ship."

_So that's why they guard us so carefully,_ Duncan realized, unconsciously rubbing her own abdomen. _I bet the first chance that he has, her Hunter will get her pregnant. I hope, for her sake they have more of that drug._

"We will stay with these oomans for a time," ordered Kash'ta. "I see that no vehicles come here, this will be a place for us to rest and ensure that our seed has taken strong root in our females. And we will secure a mate for you," he turned to the Hunter who's female had been lost to the saltwater crocodiles. "Have any of these females appealed to you?"

"Sei," the Hunter replied, "There is one who is strong, with pup-bearing hips. I desire to seed her," he pointed to a young woman mending the bark on a hut, not realizing she was the Elder's daughter and very much taken with a man in another far-away village. They were to be mated in ceremony after the rainy season. As most Aborigines had abandoned the traditional ways to live in comfort in the cities, it had become more and more difficult to find someone to pair up with who wasn't a relative.

Kash'ta grunted for his mate. Duncan heard the now familiar call that had become her Yautja name and went to him. He pointed at the still working female and then to the Hunter, "She…mate him. You tell."

"No way." Duncan smarted. "She can't understand me, how am I supposed to tell her?" She stood defiantly and perhaps stupidly, staring irritable Kash'ta in the eyes. The fatigued Hunter responded by giving her a backhand that sent her flying through the air and into a tree trunk.

Duncan's cheek throbbed from the blow and she struggled to breathe. Every breath hurt, he had cracked her ribs! Getting back up, she held her side and cursed at him, "God damn you! You think you're so big and brave hurting a woman?"

Kash'ta had not meant to injure her, only teach her to respect him. He bellowed for the Healer to come and see to her, while walking up and letting her lean on him. "Not…mean… hurt," he gently rumbled. "You…speak…with one. He…speak…her." He again pointed to the diligent tribal woman who was now working to restart the banked fire and cook food over it.

The Healer arrived and ran the scanner over Duncan's side and then her abdomen. Growling something to the Leader he injected her with a tiny dose of the glowing blue stuff right under the skin where her injured rib lay. She watched the azure medication enter and then a look of horror came over her as someone rammed a living torch into her rib bone. She screamed her agony loudly before passing out.

When she awakened the sun was high in the sky. Remembering the pain her hand went to her side and felt it. Nothing! Not even the slightest soreness was there. She took in a deep breath, and was relieved that the movement did not hurt. Standing up, she gingerly moved her torso around and was amazed to find no sign of her injury. That blue stuff worked miracles – but what a price to pay!

Kash'ta made his way to her when he saw she was up, "Hurt?" he growled, his head poised in question.

"Damn straight that hurt!" she hissed back, and then seeing he did not comprehend added, "Yes! Hurt!" The Hunter made a chortle and nodded his agreement.

"You…speak…now…him." He pointed a leathery finger toward the English-speaking man who was watching in fascination as two of the Hunters sparred in a small clearing.

"Okay. But I hope that her Dad is eight foot tall Sumo wrestler." She ignored the Yautja's puzzlement and walked over to where the young man was standing. "Pardon me, Amaroo, but our leader has asked me to tell you something." The man turned, loathe to leave the fight but wondering what she would say.

"He asks me to tell you that the woman over there," she pointed to the comely young female by the fire, "he says that she is to become the mate of one of his Hunters. I'm really sorry, Amaroo, but there is nothing I can do to stop this."

He gave her his biggest smile, "Her family will be honored, but the man she is engaged to will be sad. Not every family's daughter is betrothed to a God! There will be much preparation and then we will have a great ceremony and feast! If the Gods are willing, of course. Will you ask them?" Off he ran to inform the lucky woman's family as Duncan stood with her mouth open in shock.

Back she walked to the waiting Kash'ta. "She is honored to be his mate," Duncan nodded at the large Hunter. "They will make food. There will be a great celebration…food and a ceremony. Understand?" She looked up at him hoping he had understood.

"Sell-ee-bray-shun?" he rolled back at her.

"Uh, mating party?" she tried again.

"Sei, mate. Part-ee?"

Exasperated, Duncan tried again. "Before mate, food, dance, have fun." She cocked her head at him. He nodded some sort of comprehension and then reached his hand to gently lift her chin, and rubbed her bruised face with his thumb.

"Hurt?" he questioned, as she jerked when his thumb pad went over her darkened cheek.

"Yes," she quietly admitted, and then looked away from him. His hand prevented her from turning her head. She did not want him to see the sudden tears welling up in her eyes. The Hunter looked in wonder at the water filling the bottom of her eyes, and then he stepped into her space, placing his arms around her as if to provide comfort. Duncan wondered if this was some sort of apology. In a moment, he stepped away and was gone with a growled word left behind for his crew to guard her.

With the Leader gone, his crew tried to amuse themselves around the village. The Hunter, who had been promised the woman he desired, hung around her, attempting to communicate. The others had a contest to see who could chunk rocks into the smoldering fire that their females were still gathered about. The women reseated themselves away from the fire when the first rock hit, scattering sparks all around. The Hunters just laughed and resumed their game, assuming bizarre positions from which to throw.

Kylfa decided this would be a good time to find some privacy with his mate and complete their interrupted rut. After all, his was the only female not impregnated - a point the others never ceased to speak about. He did not wish for any to think him infertile! He asked the rock-throwing Healer for some of the sedistim, but found that he had not brought any. "You didn't think to bring some?" the Healer chided. "All our females were seeded on board the ship. What made you waste your time?"

Kylfa did not want to say that back on the ship was to be his first time, and that he had been learning how to mate from the Leader. He merely spread his mandibles in a show of distaste and stalked away. He would just have to spend sufficient effort ensuring her arousal and make sure that he took his time with her. It could be done, he was certain.

He made his way into the circle of females, finding his mate happily chatting with the Leader's female. He motioned for her to accompany him. She unhappily stood, while the female she'd been speaking with called out after her. "It will be okay, just relax! Remember what I told you!"

Taking her gently by the hand, Kylfa went into the thick jungle searching for just the right spot. He found a mossy bank by a small stream and sat down there, pulling her down onto his lap. Once settled he murmured soft complements, and ran his face and tusks through her hair, finding his scent organ suddenly filled with the disgusting scent of mud and his own urine. A low, "C'jit" pierced his mutters of affection – he had forgotten her bug-repellant plaster!

A bath was definitely in order. This time he picked her up and carried her as he followed the slight trace to where it joined another and formed a larger stream. In the flowing waterway, he found a reasonably wide and deep place to put her in. Gently, he lowered her into the running water and was surprised to find her clinging to him. The stream was not deep, but she feared what creatures might be in it. So, she held on to the Hunter for safety.

Kylfa splashed the water over her small body, rising the mud and most of the odor from her. He finally got in with her to demonstrate how shallow it was and then she allowed him to tilt her head back and rinse the mud from her hair. His talons raked the fine strands smoothly back, working any tangles out with amazing gentleness and care. Finally she was clean so he took her from the water and placed her in a beam of sunlight to dry. He watched as she fluffed her hair, and as she turned to let the warm light dry every part of her.

He decided that he had made an excellent choice for a mate. Her body was even and strong, her belly wide and softly rounded up to her ample breasts. She should be able to bear him a pup, and just as important, feed it. Impulsively he arose, towering over her in spite of the rock she stood upon. Excitedly, he began to run his hands through her hair and down her body, dragging them teasingly over her skin just has he had observed Kash'ta do. He was surprised when he scented not her arousal, but her embarrassment at his actions.

Not letting that stop him, he grasped her body and turned her over, arranging her limbs until she was on her hands and knees, in position to receive him. He bent over her, rubbing her breasts and then slid his erection against her cleft, hoping to find moisture there. Frustratingly, there was none. According to his Leader's instructions, she was not aroused. Why not? He certainly was!

He turned her back over and laid her down on the flat rock, her legs dangling over the side. There were other techniques he had observed some of the crew using and he would try those. The woman flinched, gasping in fear when he pressed his face into her and ran his long tongue into her opening. He began tasting her, moving in and out, stopping only to pull back and then lap at the growing external nub of flesh as he had seen others do. She cried out in what he understood to be pleasure, so he thrust back into her, finally tasting the lubrication that indicated her growing readiness.

He worked her this way for some time, noticing that at certain points she bucked under him and he had to pin her to the rock lest she scratch herself on his tusk or fangs. Eventually, he figured she was ready and turned her on her back with her legs hanging in front of him. Rubbing her entrance, he felt the longed for moisture as he let his now fully engorged head push at her slit. It did not give way, as Kash'ta's female's had. He pushed a bit harder, again it did not give way. Pulling back, he bent down to closely examine her body. Gently stretching the skin with his hands to reveal her opening, he saw that just inside there was a section of thin tissue partially barring his way. He wondered if she was normal or if this was some deformity.

His pounding need would not let him consider further as he was overcome by the scent of her desire. It was just thin flesh, it would stretch or tear and he was certain it would only be a minor injury for her.

Returning her to the original position, he again lined himself up, placing the throbbing head against her. Holding her by the hips, he gave a mighty shove that was greeted by a banshee shriek emitted from her mouth when her wet tight flesh was stretched open by his pulsating stiffness. He immediately stopped, actually frightened by her cry. She shook in silent sobbing and Kylfa remembered all his training about respect and honor for females – even those of prey species. He backed a little, which caused her to groan and then remembered to stop for a moment and allow her body to adapt to him.

Her crying let up, he gave another mild experimental shove and then began moving back and forth, watching her reaction. Her neck and shoulders tensed with pain and the sounds of true physical hurt came from her mouth. As much as he tried to ignore her and focus on his own pleasure, her piteous cries were heard by the Hunter who attempted to ride his lust out within the narrow confines of her jolting body.

Her breasts bruised and scraped as they were pushed against the bare rock. She held her head up preserving her face while her fingers dug against the rock slab in pain and the tips of her fingers tore. The initial feeling of being torn asunder had been horrible, but this repeated punishing of her insides was torture. She felt as though he would push through into her chest any moment now. He sweated and grunted over her like some brutish animal, intent on its own satisfaction, unmindful of the damage and pain to her body.

The guilt of dishonor flooded his mind and flowed down to melt the instrument of the female's punishment. Kylfa withdrew limpness and went back to the stream to wash. When he returned she was as he had left her, and only then did he see the streaks of red on the rock where her fingers had drawn upon it and the red swirl that dripped from her opening onto the ground below. He prayed to Paya that her injures were not too bad.

Gathering her trembling form in his arms, he went to the stream and splashed water over her hands and allowed it to trickle from his own over her thighs and private parts. Then, somewhat clean, he took her in his strong arms and carried her back to the camp where his comrades were still watching the sparks fly when they landed rocks into the disheveled fire. Placing his mate down on the ground, he looked around at the other females. Where was the red-headed one? He growled at the 'guardians' who suddenly became very serious.

Immediately they scoured the village and did not find her. So they began to fan out into the jungle searching for her scent track. Hopefully they could return her before Kash'ta came in from his hunt, otherwise they were in extremely serious trouble.

* * *

Duncan watched the short female leave with the Hunter. Sad that she could not offer her anything more than advice she watched the Yautja still in the camp, playing their juvenile game as she wondered how old they were. Certainly those in front of her must be very young as was the one that had left. She considered that her mate was the eldest and most mature of this bunch of teens gone wrong.

The Hunters were now placing bets on their ridiculous game. One got up and turned his back to the embers, ready to lob a rock over his head and try to land it in the center of the fire. The others placed their bets and watched him in great concentration as he readied for the throw.

The officer realized that her chance to run was right NOW. The teenage idiots were deeply engaged, the other women were asleep, and the villagers were busy. She quietly got to her feet and with eyes always upon the Yautja, crept into the jungle. When she deemed she was out of earshot, she tried to run. She headed west, towards the plain. Eventually she would encounter the road and head north from there, figuring the Hunters would keep to their southward trek. With luck, she'd find one of those SUV's full of tourists, or a rancher in a truck. Then she had to report this to the authorities. She hoped they could help the captured women. She felt bad that she'd not taken them with her, but reasoned that they'd not have been able to keep up with her and would have simply slowed her down. This was in their interest too, she consoled herself.

It was rough going, in places the plants slapped and tore at her as she tried to hurry through them, slapping at the various insects that were brushed from the greenery onto her arms and face. Vines and low branches scraped her legs as she fought her way and deadfall shifted and snapped beneath her feet.

Finally after an hour or more of hard going, the jungle began to thin. Eventually Duncan was able to increase her pace to the steady ground-covering jog that she knew she could hold for several hours. Thank God for physical fitness! She often jogged to keep fit and hopefully outrun any criminals stupid enough to try and make a break from her on foot. Her bare feet had toughened considerably in the past month of trekking with the Yautja, but the occasional nut, stick or stone she tromped on still bruised and hurt.

In the distance, she saw the dust of a vehicle on the road. Which way was it going? She crouched in the brush watching carefully and then realized that she could hear the rumble of an engine. It was coming toward her! Thanking God, she waited until the SUV was maybe a quarter of a mile away before she walked out towards the road.

The vehicle rounded a bend and was close enough so she could make out two occupants in the front seat. She began to walk into the middle of the road when unexpectedly, the sports utility vehicle jolted to the side and ran off the track, dust trailing as it plunged through the bush. She could make out the huge form of a Hunter clinging to the driver's door and one of his beefy arms in front of the driver as the Yautja took the wheel.

A peeved Duncan ran back off the road and crouched down in the tall weedy grass. Who was this Hunter and what in hell was he doing? Peeking through the growth, she could see the vehicle lurch from side to side, rumble back onto the road and finally come to a stop nearly in front of her. The Hunter ripped the door from its hinges and pulled the terrified driver out by the neck. Lifting him off the ground, the poor human soiled his pants as the side-jaws opened and a body-wracking roar blasted in his face.

"Where…Hunters?" the Yautja that Duncan now recognized as her 'mate' growled to the nearly fainted man. "Where?" he shook the dangling fellow like a terrier shakes a rat.

"I…don't understand," squeaked the pleading human.

"Where…Hunters?" Kash'ta repeated, again shaking the pale as death human, who began to roll his eyes in some sort of fit. The Hunter dropped the useless creature and tromped over to the other side where a woman sat quaking in her seat.

Duncan had seen enough. She ran from her cover to the Hunter who was holding the passenger door in one hand and reaching into the car with the other. "God damn you!" she screamed as she tackled him from behind. It was like trying to grapple with a tree. Duncan collided with his ass and bounced off the hard muscles, falling to the ground.

Kash'ta had spied his mate on the roadway as he fought to steer the speeding machine. What in Hel she was doing here was not something he had the time to think about. He would deal with her later, after he had scared or beaten the information he needed out of these stupid oomans.

When the male had proved useless, he went to the other side of the vehicle. He scented and saw the fear of this female, but perhaps she would be hearty enough to answer him. Then he felt and heard the rush of ooman feet behind him. _My bravely idiotic female is going to interfere, _he realized and then felt the soft body hit his backside along with her battle cry. _How suddenly she left! _But there was no time to wonder what had happened. He continued to reach for the trembling female inside the car when that familiar high screech reached his ears.

"Kash-ta! Stop! God damn you, STOP!"

It was the first time she had tried to call him by name, and he ceased reaching for the fearful female and turned to her. His mate was sitting on her backside in the dirt, legs splayed out in front of her, arms supporting her torso and red hair wild in the sudden breeze.

"Why?" he rumbled, noticing that the female in the car had fallen forward, probably as unconscious as the valiant male.

"Because I said so, God damn it!" she hauled herself up and walked toward him, anger driving every step. "You can't go around scaring people to death! What the hell is wrong with you?"

He let the car door slip from his hand, and cocked his head to the side in lack of understanding. Duncan swept her hand over the wrecked car and its occupants. "Why?" she asked him.

"Need…Hunters."

"You have hunters back there," she pointed in the rough direction of camp and asked again, "Why?"

Kash'ta was taken aback at her anger and aggression. Why should he have to justify his actions to prey? _She is not prey, she is my mate, _he reminded himself, remembering all his puphood lessons in respect for females. Trying again he rumbled, "Need…other Hunters."

Duncan was not satisfied and demanded, "Why other Hunters? Why do you need them?"

"My plan," he answered smugly. "Need…ship."

"Oh, like the first ship that was destroyed?" There was a small mock in her voice.

"Sei. Ship. Oomans tell…where ship." He triumphed as a look of understanding crossed her face.

"Well, they aren't going to tell you if they're dead," she caustically remarked. "Let me ask them, for God's sake. You stay put!" She saw the fainted woman and went around the car to see what shape the man was in. He seemed to be coming around and Duncan helped him sit up.

"Are you okay, Sir?" she asked him, scrunching her nose against his rank odor.

"I'm…ok, I think. What the hell was that?"

"That was an alien. You know the Hunters from the TV news? Don't worry now, its okay. But I need to ask you something."

"Wwwhat?"

"Do you know where any others like him are? Is there somewhere near here where they land their ships?"

"There is a town south of here where they land to check on the pregnant women. You know the ones carrying alien babies. I have a map in the truck, I'll show you."

He got up and then resumed his look of terror at spotting the huge Hunter standing on the other side of the hood. "It's okay," the red-head reassured him. "Get the map, he won't touch you." The shaky man retrieved the map from between the front seats, merely glancing at the still form of the woman.

"Is she alright?"

"I think she just fainted," Duncan replied. "Is she your wife?"

"Ex-wife. We're, uh, still friends. We're on holiday." He brought out the map and traced the path to the highway and then south to the town. "There is where they land, just outside of town. Any of the locals can tell you where."

Duncan took the map to Kash'ta and showed him. "We are here," she pointed to all of them and then the corresponding place on the map. Hearing a grunt of comprehension, she continued, "Follow this to the highway, here. Then follow that to the city where the Hunters land ships. They are there to check on pregnant women."

Kash'ta perked up at her statement, "Women?" He mimed a bulging abdomen. A Healer's ship would be much easier to take. Things were suddenly looking up for the group!

"Yes," she nodded.

He headed for the tree line, growling for her to follow him. She fell in meekly behind, wondering why he'd said nothing about her being out here alone. He strode along, mindless to her efforts to keep up with him as he was alone in his thoughts.

_We can take a Healer's vessel easily. Then board our females and make for the planet that holds our new life. The loss of the two females and my second will not be in vain. We will achieve our new Clan!_

_But what of Yaut? We left many of our brother hybrids there. What will become of them now that the females are to be again? They will be discarded as dust! Unworthy of continuing any great Sire's bloodline! All because of one ooman female who somehow had herself declared as Matriarch! For Paya's sake, she cannot even bear a pup from her body! All her offspring are hatched from artificial creations brought about by our most brilliant minds. And the new females have had their genes manipulated so that all the ooman traits will be submissive. Gene manipulation is against our law! It has been since the Clan wars. This ooman female has dishonored us all! She must be destroyed, and her offspring with her!_

A new idea for a mission seized upon the Leader's mind, a mission borne of hatred - a hatred that skewed his thinking into believing that a mission against the well-guarded Matriarch could succeed. Of course, Kash'ta did not know of the Blood Bond formed to protect her and her pups. In his mind, he saw a few paltry High Council guards that would be no contest to an attack where they were outnumbered by skilled Hunters. Perhaps a mission of justified righteousness was in order first, and then they could head for their new home.


	17. A Pup's-eye View

**Chapter 16: A Pup's Eye View**

_**For these are all our children. We will all profit by, or pay for, whatever they become." – James Baldwin**_

For the fourth time during the night, Sally's eyes flew wide open. She threw back the fur and arose from her bed to check on the sleeping infants. Tiptoeing into the receiving hall, the largest room in her suite where their white raised sleeping boxes had been arranged, she saw where twenty infant Yautja slumbered, each swaddled in a warming cloth. The sounds of occasional tiny grunts of contentment or peacefully smacking mini-mandibles lifted into the air.

Going to each one, she carefully watched by the dim light to see if it was breathing. Each little chest moved up and down beneath the warm cover. As she continued to watch the children she saw that arms and legs occasionally shifted, hands flexed and sometimes sets of demure tuskless mandibles twitched.

They were all snoozing peacefully and already growing she realized. New larger warming cloths needed to be ordered in the morning. Suddenly, small fussing was heard from one of the boxes and Sally quickly checked the baby and found she was wet. Retrieving everything needed from the drawer beneath the crib, she cleaned and dried the soaked, softly scaled bottom and redressed it with a warm, dry and absorbent soiling pad.

Baby Ulfrde was fully awake now and demanded attention from her mother, who carried the little one to her own bed for some playtime without awakening the others. "You are a lug!" Sally exclaimed, "You must be nearly twenty pounds already!" She lay the wiggling newborn on the bed fur and watched as it struggled to roll over. The instinctive determination to physically accomplish was already being demonstrated as Ulfrde finally made her body turn and ended up on her round belly with her head lifted on the fragile-looking neck. She looked all around as though seeing everything for the first time, which in fact she was. Her eyes were only now able to focus on the world they brought to her view.

The Matriarch bent down by the bedside with her face at eye-level with the baby. "Come, Ulfrde, come to mommy!" The offspring of Ulfr wiggled her face and gave a low squawk of delight as she associated her Bearer's known voice with the face in front of her. Then to Sally's surprise, the pup slowly raised up on its hands and knees and began a wobbly crawl to reach her. The successful athlete was rewarded with kisses to her broad forehead until Sally caught herself, _a Yautja Bearer cannot kiss. _She settled for softly stroking Ulfrde's face until the nimble mandibles caught her finger and pulled it into the toothless sucking mouth. _You little piglet! You can't be hungry!_

Reaching for her bedside com she requested a bottle of recreated warm Yautja milk from a sleepy-sounding aseigan. It was promptly delivered. The aseigan made to take the pup and feed her, but Sally waved him away, declining, "H-ko, I will feed her myself. Go back to bed." The servant left, grateful that the Matriarch took such an active role in the lives of her pups, relieved that his tired body was ensured a decent night's rest.

Sally kept her eyes glued to the infant as she sucked enthusiastically at the nourishment and tried to hold the bottle with her tiny clawed fingers. As Ulfrde groped for the container, Sally felt a small claw mark her hand. Examination of the baby's fingers revealed that the talons had grown and were now capable of scratching her flesh. She would see about filing them in the morning.

_This is ridiculous! My children are fine, why am I so anxious for them? I can't even sleep worrying if they are still alive! Time to talk to Myn'dill._

Sally watched the pup finish her meal while she made up a small ditty off the top of her head to sing to her daughter, 'Dear Ulfr-de, soft and wee, how can a Yautja be so tiny?' Over and over she sang the rhyme to her pup's soft intelligent eyes. Ulfrde was fascinated. As the nipple was discarded along with slobber from the babe's mouth, she watched her Bearer in wonder at the melodic sounds being formed by the moving lips. Almost unconsciously, Ulfrde's mouth began moving in mimicry of her mother, but only gurgles and smacking sounds came forth.

An amazed Matriarch watched the little jaws move and caught a glimpse of the inner vocal lips stretching and pursing in an attempt to make controlled sound. _How fast she is developing! I never had any children on Earth, but I know they don't progress this fast. She'll be talking and walking soon. That was probably in their best interest for survival in the prehistoric past. Someone needs to speak Yautja to her, and soon! I hope no one on the High Council minds if the girls are bilingual. After all, many Hunters speak, at least passably, some Earth language. I wonder if Mel is getting any sleep. _With her tummy full, Ulfrde's eyes had begun to close, so Sally tucked her back in bed and hurried to try and get more shut-eye herself before the day began.

Over in her quarters, worn-out Mel was passed out lying on the floor beside her baby's raised bed. She had entertained, changed and fed the overactive infant several times in an effort to get her to sleep. Now the baby lay in bed, her bright eyes wide open staring at her hands as they flexed and moved, while her Bearer had fallen fast asleep on a fur stretched out on the floor. She would be rewarded for her efforts with a stiff neck in the morning, as well as a sleepy daughter.

The sun rose all too soon for the new mothers. Sally busied herself monitoring her children as they were bathed and fed by the specially trained male aseigan. Mel fed and bathed little Signý and then joined Sally and her now large family.

She was surprised to see unfamiliar Hunters standing guard at the entrance to the Matriarch's apartment. Loyal Yin and Yang had insisted on standing guard inside the door where they could keep an eye on the pups and their grown Yautja handlers, so extra guards had been called to duty outside.

Sally welcomed her friend and held Signý, admiring her mottling that was so like her Sire, while she kept watch over the aseigan. As hard as she tried, Sally could find no fault with how the servants cared for her children. They were gentle, thorough, and endlessly patient with the squirming babies. The only attribute they lacked was love, but she could provide that.

Giving Signý back to her mother, she held each of her little daughters and spoke to them. Each infant in turn was enraptured with her voice and reached out to touch her face. She indulged them in feeling her skin, even though her face bore a few scratches when they were finished.

As the last of them was put back to bed for their morning nap, the guards announced that Theron was seeking entrance. "By all means, sei, let him in!" Sally was relieved that he was here as she needed to give some instruction to her staff which was impossible without his or Sig'dan's assistance.

Sally's thoughts turned to Sig'dan returning to her quarters that first evening after the exhausting day of pup birthing was over. Sally had welcomed the comfort of his body next to hers and readily passed out in his arms upon her bed furs. In the morning, she had told him how grateful she was for his presence and he had promptly divided his time for the next cycles – spending the nights with her and his days checking on Melanie and his offspring in between his medical work.

The Matriarch went to greet her translator in the entry hall, "Theron! Welcome! Come see my children!"

The translator entered the reception room now turned nursery and let the Matriarch lead him around the room, telling him each baby's name – as best she could pronounce it. He regarded the pups curiously until he came to the two that were sired by his own Clan's High Elder. These he spent more time with while resisting the urge to examine them. He knew that their Sire had sanctioned both of them and so they were healthy and robust as Dor'an pups should be.

Sally interrupted his thoughts, "Theron, I need someone to begin speaking to them in Yautja. They are working their mouths already, trying to copy my language. Would you instruct the aseigan to ensure they begin speaking to them regularly?"

The translator's mandibles gave the Yautja equivalent of a frown, "The servants are not well educated. May I advise that you request us, your Blood Bonded brothers, to spend time speaking to them? They must learn to pronounce words correctly and learn real words not just common slang."

"Very good, Theron. I value your advice in this matter. Please let the rest of the brothers know of my need."

Immediately Theron activated his com and in short order the room was full of Hunters. Sally had not accounted for how literally her order would be taken and had to suppress laughter at the speed with which her Hunters appeared. Now she sat in a corner, entertaining herself by watching the most feared killers in the known universe hold tiny female copies of themselves in their laps and talk to them.

The Consort sat holding Arndís on the scaly trunk of his giant thigh, one huge hand engulfing her torso. It was obvious that he was telling her a story, probably one of his own adventures. Sally wondered if he was explaining the glory of hunting Badbloods to her. Paya forbid that her first word be the Yautja word for blood - 'thwei'!

His golden eyes shone at his granddaughter as he clicked and growled expressively and made motions with his free hand. She sat, supported by one gentle paw, apparently engrossed by his tale. She made no movements of her mouth other than sometimes moving her mandibles. After a time, a thread of pup drool dropped from onto his leg. He ignored it and kept going with his lengthy story.

Sally wondered, as she watched Aldúlfr's earnest narrative, just who was enthralled by who. He seemed completely taken with his granddaughter and she was entranced by him. Arndís was assured of a protector and guide for the rest of the Consort's still lengthy life. Asking him to adopt her and Ulfrde as blood daughters had been a good decision and gave Sally peace that Ulfr's children would be off to a very good start.

On another chair sat Sig'dan with Ulfrde on his lap. An aseigan had dropped her into his arms as soon as he entered the room. Ever the teacher, he was slowly saying a word over and over, watching her mouth as she tried to say it. "Ka" he said, then more slowly, "Kaaaa." The little mandibles and jaws opened as the internal dance of throat-lips and tongue worked and worked in imitation of her uncle.

"Kuuh," finally came very softly from her mouth.

"Kaaaaa," repeated Sig'dan, with mandibles open wide and his face very close to her so she could see down his throat, "Kaaaaa."

Ulfrde's tiny brow wrinkled in concentration and finally, in a great soup of sound and drool, her first word came forth, "Ka!"

Sig'dan clicked humorously as the wad of spittle dripped off his chin. "Sei!" he stroked her face and rubbed her shoulder, "Sei, Ulfrde! Kaaaaaaa, Kaaaah, Ka."

He was rewarded by a stream of "Kalakakakakakaka," coming from the victorious pup. "What does 'Ka' mean?" Sally asked him, "Is it a word?"

"It is our short word for her Bearer, Sal-lee. I believe you would translate it as 'mom'." He opened his upper mandibles in a great warm gap that was his smile.

"How wonderful, her first word!" Sally exclaimed, turning to Ulfrde and saying, "Ka," pointing to herself, "Ka." The infant cocked her head which Sally found nearly unbearably cute. "Sei, Ulfrde." She pointed to herself again and said, "Ka."

The little mouth opened and croaked, "Ka."

"Very good!" Sally caressed her baby's face and then turned to check on another daughter when the little voice suddenly rasped, "Ka! Ka! Ka!"

Sally halted in mid-stride her heart nearly physically tugged by the plaintive call, _my God, did she just call me? She can't have put that word together with me as my name so quickly! _The Matriarch wheeled around and saw small arms reaching for her as Ulfrde's voice continued, "Ka! Ka! Ka!"

"Oh my God, she's calling for me!" Sally beamed and immediately returned the reach, scooping her up. She looked at Sig'dan, "This is one smart little girl! I can't believe she learned to call me so quickly!"

Myn'dill had been watching the event as he spoke to one of the other pups in his arms, and he carried the little one over so he could speak with her mother through Sig'dan. Going up to the young Hunter he said, "Honorable Sig'dan, although Ulfrde is smart, she is also manipulative. That is normal for her age. The Matriarch must learn not to go to her every time she calls. The pup must learn to be independent."

Sig'dan turned to Sally and translated what the Healer had said. She tried to hear it bravely but her countenance fell as she asked, "So soon? She must learn independence so soon?"

Myn'dill had understood. "Sei, Sal-lee. Important. Trust me."

"I do, Myn-dill, with my life, as well as my daughter's." She gave the child back to Sig'dan and bravely turned to the next pup, knowing that she must adhere to the Yautja way if her girls were to thrive. A surprisingly loud voice screamed after her, "Ka! Ka! Ka! Ka!" Sally kept her back to the cries and focused on what Yin was speaking to the small pup in his enormous arms. Sig'dan was able to distract Ulfrde with his voice and began to speak with her, giving her other words to concentrate on. Soon she was focusing on his inner mouth and trying to form more words.

Yin was entertaining Doru. She sat perfectly balanced upon this impressive thigh while he dangled various locks and their shiny rings in front of her rapt face. Carefully, he told her the meaning of each one. Sally made a mental note to ask Theron to explain to him that the baby needed to watch his vocal apparatus, not his honor rings if the little one was to learn to talk.

It made an entertaining picture, the gigantic fearsome High Council Guard holding the diminutive babe in fixation upon his leg that was wider than Sally's body. The Matriarch had never seen fierce Yin behaving so tenderly and carefully as he was in this moment. At the same time it was hard to believe that the elfin baby would eventually grow to be possibly taller than her storyteller with muscles that were just as impressive.

_I'm astounded that the Hunters can even find us remotely attractive compared to what nature has created for them to mate. I guess after the Yautja females have been recreated in sufficient numbers – they won't. _Suddenly she saw a troublesome picture in her mind – her beloved Sig'dan mating with a huge Yautja female. _When they are grown will he want me anymore? _

He wouldn't be able to mate with his blood relations, Ulfrde, Arndís or Signý – but he could mate with any of the others! Then several more thoughts came to her. The High Counsel would be the only ones mating with these females in all probability. Their seniority in society gave them the first privileges. How long would it be before Sig'dan ascended in rank, and there were enough females, to allow him to breed his own kind? The other thought that emerged was that in all likelihood she would not live long enough to see that day.

Part of her was glad. She could at least compete with another human woman, like Mel, for his attentions. But how could she possibly be alluring to him when compared to the divine creature that she had witnessed carved from pure white stone in the ancient temple. Sally's hand went to her face that felt suddenly bare and unadorned with its rather flat expanses of plain skin. The unaccustomed diminishment of insecurity grabbed at her insides as she looked across the room at Sig'dan still working with Ulfrde. Their eyes met and he saw the worried look in hers and huffed to catch the wandering scent that betrayed her thoughts. She quickly looked away and went on. All that mattered were the pups. Whatever happened to Sig'dan in the future was still in the future. Her pups and their needs were here today and she was determined to focus on them.

The next pup, Signý, was enjoying sitting on Theron's lap while her mother sat beside the Hunter and listened, watching him with her baby. Sally wondered why her translator, rather than Sig'dan, was working with the little girl but in this society which seemed to turn out a village to raise a child perhaps it did not matter.

Theron spoke very carefully to the little one and then would turn and tell Melanie what the Yautja words meant in English. Melanie was fascinated and the translator had to concentrate on teaching the pup her native language rather than teaching her mother to speak Yautja.

"Mel-an-nee, would you like to try and learn my language?"

"I have no idea how I'd learn to speak it. I can't make the clicks!"

"Perhaps a way can be found," he half-opened his upper mandibles in a gesture of friendliness to her. From his seat next to the pair, Sig'dan could glance over and keep an eye on things. When he heard the invitation to Melanie followed by Theron's signal, his own mandibles began to open in aggression.

_How dare he make an overture to the Bearer of my pup! He may be a Dor'an, but I could give him a hit or two in the arena that would show him my displeasure! _A low growl began to form in his throat.

Aldúlfr had been watching from across the room. Suddenly he barked, "Brothers! We are here only for the pups! Concentrate on teaching them and nothing else!" Theron looked guilty and redoubled his focus on Mel's pup, while Sig'dan quit glancing at them and had eyes only for little Ulfrde on his lap.

Sally stood near Mel and watched Theron work with Signý. She was so very feminine with the delicacy of her finely featured face and had been paying great attention to her tutor, but suddenly began to fuss. Sally impulsively bent to her and began the song that fit her as well as Ulfrde.

"Dear Sig-ny, soft and wee, how can a Yautja be so tiny?"

The babe quit stirring at the sound, trying to figure out the strange noise. "Do you sing to all your babies?" Mel asked.

"Yes, I must confess that I do. I hope the Hunters won't think it a problem. I suppose I should ask Myn'dill about it."

Theron, piped in with a question, "What does your usage of the word 'we' mean?"

"Used in this song, it describes her stature as very little, Theron. She is very small."

Just then, Theron became as motionless as the sculptured Hunters in the city green spaces. Then he pursed his face in displeasure as the slow sound of liquid trickling onto the floor beneath him was heard. Lifting up the pup, he displayed his thigh, soaking wet with warm Signý urine. An emotional fight briefly flew across his face as displeasure with being urinated upon sparred with his natural affection for the pup and his enjoyment of attention from Melanie.

Mel laughed, "Another meaning of the word 'wee' is urine – especially baby urine!"

Theron retorted, "I believe that both meanings are fitting here." Chuckling Mel took the youngling away to clean and change her, and Theron got up to retreat to a bathroom and wash his leg. The Matriarch walked with him part of the way toward the facility.

"I am curious, Theron, did you request to work with Mel's child, or did she ask you to?"

"The Bearer brought her child to me," he stated. "I am enjoying working with a pup. I did not think it would be so rewarding." Sally smiled at him, gave a nod and went to where Myn'dill was speaking to Char-vi who was more interested in wiggling on his lap then listening to his voice.

Sally took a seat on the bench beside them. "Char-vi!" she spoke a bit definitively. The pup stopped moving and looked for her Bearer. "Okay, Myn'dill. Try speaking to her now." He did and the pup finally focused on him. Sally stayed for a time, sitting with her eyes closed, enjoying the rhythmic click and rumble of the Healer's voice. Then she moved to where Yang was working with Tar'ni.

He was having a difficult time. Tar'ni was far more interested in grabbing and pulling on his locks than paying any attention to his voice. "Here, let me hold her," Sally reached for the baby and frustrated Yang released the infant and made to stand. Sally's hand quietly lay upon his arm to stop him and he resettled, looking questioningly at her.

She spoke to the child who immediately perked up and listened to her Bearer as her face peered over Sally's shoulder. The Matriarch turned so that Tar'ni would be looking at Yang and waited. And waited. Tar'ni began to struggle but was again quieted by her mother's voice. Sally turned back around to try and communicate with Yang and found him gone! A look of exasperation covered her face as the Healer, Sig'dan and the other Yautja rolled great chortles into the room. Sally looked to Sig'dan and then Theron for an explanation, but they were laughing too hard.

"Alright! Where did he go?"

Theron managed an answer first, "Honorable Matriarch, your guard went to wee." He kept his poker face for only a few moments and then he and Sig'dan and Melanie burst into laughter with Sally joining them.

* * *

The Matriarch was enjoying a soak in her private tub with her eyes closed, when Sig'dan gave a small click to let her know her was there. She smiled and then opened her eyes, giving him a wave to join her luxury. He did. It had been a long day for everyone and an indulgent soak was just the thing for body and soul.

The Hunter discarded his light armor and cloth and ascended the steps to sit by Sally. Catching her up in his arms, he placed her upon his lap and slid them both a little down the seat to deeper water. Then he wrapped her possessively with both stalwart arms and rubbed the top of her head with his chin. She relaxed in his care, enjoying his attentions.

Being alone with him there was never a feeling that she was human and he Yautja. They were simply a male and a female whose depth of care and desire for each other had found no limit. They were no longer alien to each other but fully accepting and appreciative of their differences. To Sally, some men had blond hair, and Sig'dan had black locks. To the Hunter, some Yautja females had mottling on their scales, and Sally had pale skin rarely marked with a freckle. In their private world where reality was temporarily shut out, all that existed was a young Hunter who had centered his true affection on a single female, and a human woman for whom he had become the rock of a new life and the center of her still mending heart.

Her heart had enlarged to hold all her children too, but that was a different kind of love. For her children, if need be, she would sacrifice her life, for Sig'dan her life had already been given – first to Ulfr and now to him. She had willingly shed her Earthly existence for their love and to help their race with the knowledge that she was also on the path of freeing Earthly women from their slavery.

"Sal-lee, when we were with the pups," he began softly, "I scented something I have never found from you before. It was like fear, but different. Do you know what it was?"

After considering for a few moments, she replied, "Was it while I was watching my guard with Doru?"

"Sei, it was then. What happened?"

"Oh, I was thinking about how, in time, you might mate with one of your own kind and I felt – insecure." She laughed then, "But I realized that I probably wouldn't live long enough to witness that!"

Sig'dan turned her face very gently with his hand so that he could search her eyes, "Sal-lee, I don't know if I would ever want one of my own. And the fact that I will probably outlive you causes me great pain. Please do not speak of it again." His countenance was so serious that if he were human there might have been tears in his eyes. "I love you, Sal'lee – with everything I am."

Delicate but strong hands smoothed over his face and she pulled him down to where she could softly kiss the tusks of his closed mandibles. "And I love you my most wonderful Hunter – with everything I am."

They made love that night, for the first time since before the pups had been born. It was slow and unusually tender and sweet. Afterwards, Sally thought that she had never felt so loved in her entire life. Sig'dan had never experienced the sweetness of release after such prolonged arousal and he wondered at the ability to show immense affection through an act that was primarily to create new life.

The cycles passed quickly and the pups grew rapidly. They learned to crawl and then began to use all available furniture to pull themselves up. Myn'dill had discouraged filing their claws. "They will need them," he said through the translator, "for climbing as well as defense. Filing them flat could give them insecurities if they found they were defenseless."

So Sally, Melanie and everyone learned to handle the clawed babies with care. They also began to reprimand them for scratching. A quick click, followed by a tap on the hand or foot got the message across. The human women were able to give an adequate click with their tongues. It did not sound like a Yautja click, but it worked and that is all the Bearers cared about. Sally thought that she looked like she'd been herding cats by the time the girls had learned to use their talons with care!

Then, when that had been accomplished, the pups went through a fussy spell while their locks erupted. Myn'dill gave Sally and Mel an ointment to rub onto their lock growth bumps to soften the skin and make the process more comfortable. Mel was constantly at Sally's apartment with Signý, helping Sally and her staff care for the youngsters. Things became more manageable after their locks sprouted, and the women thought they could breathe a sigh of relief, but then Ulfrde started walking.

She had always been the largest, and the most physical of the girls. One day she was crawling over the floor to a chair and dug her now hard front talons into the legs and pulled herself into a standing position. Glancing around, she did an instinctive check for danger and then tentatively took a step while hanging onto the chair seat to steady herself. Sally and Mel watched breathlessly as she walked to the end of the chair and pondered the situation. Then, moving carefully to maintain her balance, she took a step forward, her arms out like a balancing pole. She looked up as a cheer from the women rallied her to do more. Grinning with spread upper mandibles at the attention, Ulfrde took a bolder step forward, and losing her balance went down on her bottom.

Sally held herself in check. She wanted to go and comfort the now squalling baby, but remembering the Healer's words, she let her daughter figure out the situation for herself. Mel made no remark, but had figured out what Sally was doing.

The little Yautja rolled to her hands and knees and crawled to the chair. Again she stood, balancing herself with the aid of the chair, and then walked the length of it. Looking to make sure that her Bearer was watching, she bravely stepped out and this time toddled to the next piece of furniture she could grab. She kept practicing and before the sun made its zenith, she had learned to walk. Sally and Mel went around baby Yautja proofing their apartments. It would not be long before all of them were emulating Ulfrde!


	18. There's No Place Like Home

**Chapter 17: There's No Place Like Home**

_**He that has revenge in his power, and does not use it, is the greater man. – Wellins Calcott, Thoughts Moral and Divine**_

The Healer's ship set down at its appointed time and place on the Blue Planet to meet the gathering of pup-pregnant human females as they made their monthly visit. This particular stop was especially favored by the crew because during the dry season the heat reminded them of Yaut. The Hunters would often take a little shore leave and sun themselves in the pale yellow rays that heated this sphere.

Early morning found the women were lined up at the moderately-sized craft, chatting among themselves as they waited to be examined. Friendships had been made in the group with the women seeing each other every thirty days or so and they swapped tales about their lives and compared pregnancy experiences.

The Healer helped the next female in line onto his examining table as he asked her a few questions. She replied that she had been feeling fine and had no complaints. He and ran the scanner over her entire body. It took a few moments and his claws tapped idly on the table edge, adding to the nervousness of the woman lying there. After the scanner stilled, he had to wait for the projections and reports to appear, so he made the most of the time by slipping a fine needle into her arm and withdrawing a small sample of her blood. The computer signaled and he turned to study the report and dimensional pictures of her womb.

She was strapped to the table, as the Healer did with all his patients. It was the standard protocol for dealing with oomans and he saw no reason to alter it. It was always a trust issue for a human woman to allow a Hunter to fix the leather bindings that immobilized and left her at his mercy. Some accepted his ties meekly as they lay upon the metal table with eyes wide in fright. Others continually fought him until he called for a crew Hunter to hold them down as he secured them. Their fight against him was always futile, and he would not spare them as he did not want to risk infection from a filthy ooman bite. Another boringly normal pregnancy made his eyelids half close as his mandibles stretched in a yawn. A mid-day nap would be welcome, but there was still a line of females to examine.

The Healer was alone on the ship, except for the women, while the crew lay on the ground outside - bared down to their essential loincloths on the sandy soil, ignoring the lazy buzz of a few flies circling around them. They dozed in the warm sunshine, a few keeping their eyes cracked lethargically to watch the ship.

One Hunter grunted as he turned his large bulk in order to bake the other side. It had been many planetary cycles since he had enjoyed a sun soak which was welcome even from these somewhat feeble rays. As he basked, his mind wandered to the line of oomans with their abdomens in various stages of bulge. It had been some time since he had mated; perhaps he needed to schedule a mating hunt soon.

He remembered his last catch who had delivered his pup over a year ago. She had elected to stay on her planet during her pregnancy and he had even had the opportunity to see her when the Healer's ship made its monthly visit. She was always fearful of him. The pup had been born without incident and was still in the care of his Bearer. His tusks clicked in satisfaction as he remembered the pup's Bearer and how he had evaluated her worthiness prior to selecting her. The mating had been pleasurable – for him at least. Perhaps instead of hunting a new mate, he would reseed her when the pup was weaned. The thought of her flesh brought a flush of feeling under his cloth.

His idle imaginings were brought to an abrupt halt by the serrated blades as they suddenly extended themselves with a clink into the cavity of his chest. He found himself before the Great Hall of Cetanu still feeling the rush of lust course through his loins and the sting of merciless metal sliding into his heart.

No alarm was raised by the bloodless crew whose verdant life rivers now ran beneath Earth's small sun. They had no opportunity to honorably defend themselves as the attack had been in unison by the cloaked Badbloods who never even gave a growl to identify a challenge to a fair fight. To perish in battle was a glorious thing which immediately bore one to the feasting of Cetanu's table. To die like prey meat, without the opportunity to even draw a blade, was a low end not befitting any who bore a Clan mark. While all Hunters who fell in combat were allowed entrance into the Dark One's hall, what glorious tale of death could be toasted by those slaughtered in such a dishonorable way? No one knew for certain what happened, but some speculated that those who met such a disagreeable end spent eternity crouched in one of the hall's corners trying to avoid recognition by their Brothers.

The Badbloods now turned to the Healer's ship where the line of socializing women had not even glanced at the sunning crew to notice how the sand now sprouted meadows of their blood. Carefully, the thugs waited until the last female had been seen by the Healer and had left the ship. No reason to reveal what was going on to them, in case they were later interviewed by Arbitrators trying to understand what had happened. They could have simply killed them all but, even though they were rogues, deliberately murdering females was beyond even their consideration.

With the last female walking down the gangplank and hurrying to join her waiting friends, the still cloaked Hunters stole onto the ship. The Healer was tidying his exam bay when the scent of unknown Yautja knocked upon the door of his scent organ. He kept up his work, not letting them know their odor had given them away, while reaching under the exam table for the weapon stored there, a small insurance policy against the unknown.

Turning to face the open doorway he caught the shimmer of the cloaking and roared a warrior's challenge to the intruders. It was his final act as the group cut him down like wild dogs swarming some lordly lion. His blade drew blood before it was scuttled to the floor and a materialized Badblood dripped lush green from the nick in his side before he staunched it with a cloth pad. The entire group then uncloaked and secured the ship, making certain all was safe before calling for their mates to board.

* * *

The signal sounded on Kylfa's com rousing him from slumber. He had been left behind to guard the group of precious females while his Brothers captured the ship. While he longed to join their adventure, part of him was pleased to be entrusted with so important a task by the Leader. He vividly remembered Kash'ta's words.

"Kylfa my Brother, I must lead the mission to find a ship for us. The Arbitrators will certainly follow us to this planet and we must escape to save our bloodlines. I leave our unborn pups in your safekeeping until we return. If we have not returned in two mornings, you will know that we are not coming back. Take the females and head back for the Clan of oomans who sheltered and fed us. They will help keep the pups safe. Raise them as the true Hunters they will be and then ensure all the females become pregnant as many times as possible. There should be enough of a genetic mix from the first group of pups so that our Clan can continue."

"I will protect our future," young Kylfa vowed.

Guarding the females had not been difficult. The Hunter had herded his group to another part of the jungle's edge and camped there while Kash'ta and the rest went on in search of a ship. His own female tried to avoid him by hiding behind the red-haired one who either smirked or snarled at him whenever he came close. The others quietly talked and rested, or ate and drank the provisions that had been provided for them. He thought that his mate had probably told Kash'ta's mate the details of his unsuccessful seeding of her, but he didn't really know if that was true. Ooman faces were so difficult to read that it might only be his imagination working overtime, he reasoned.

It was in the evening of the next cycle when he heard his com along with the soft whoosh of a landing ship, and saw lights in the clearing near where he and the females slept in their heaped nests for the night. Getting quickly to his feet, he rumbled a wake-up call to the females, "Up oomans! Get up!" Scrambling from their beds, the fearful women crowded together behind their guardian who stood with blades extended until he was certain it was his Brothers returning. "Stay there!" he commanded to the females. Then looking the red hair in the eyes, he ordered, "If I say run…you take oomans…run." She nodded her understanding and he turned back around.

It was with relief that Kylfa saw Kash'ta leading the band through the trees toward him. He called out in greeting and it was returned. The Leader met him with a shoulder clasp and commanded, "Get the females on the ship, we leave now." Kylfa nodded and wheeled to locate his own mate as the others sorted for theirs. She gave a squeak as her arm was grasped and she was dragged for a step. When he realized she was not walking, he swung her up into his arms and carried her aboard, wondering if her stubbornness had been influenced by the red haired one.

The females were hurried to the waiting area seating, then strapped safely into the bolted down chairs. With the assurance that their pups Bearers were secured, the crew then readied the ship. Soon the transport left the planet behind as the course was set for the nearest interstellar gate.

No one followed them. All the other Yautja ships and Earth monitors assumed it was a normal run for the Healer's transport back to Yaut. When he was certain they were safe, Kash'ta called his crew together. "My Brothers, we have been blessed by Paya to so easily find and take this ship. I am certain that we were monitored by the Blue Planet and by other ships in the area. I am also certain that we may only travel without arousing suspicion if we head on a bearing back to the Homeworld - the normal destination for this ship to resupply and off-load non-compliant females."

The Leader stopped for a moment as mutters from the crew interrupted his sermon, and with a growling side-jaw spread, silenced them. Glaring at their disrespect, he continued, "When I first realized this I was dismayed that we could not turn toward our true destination without arousing suspicion and the attention of the Arbitrators. But I quickly saw that this was another of Paya's blessings to us!" Kash'ta's speech ramped up as passion began to relay through his scent and voice and he ventured on into the tried-and-true theme that had rallied the others to him in the first place.

"My Brothers, we have suffered much due to our mixed blood. First we were discriminated against back on Yaut by our Sires and Elders. They taxed us much harder than any that came before us. We were the test generation of ooman-Yautja Hunters who were not trusted to carry on the Bloodline without passage through great trial. Many of us paid with injury and even our lives to assure our trainers that we had what it took to be great Hunters.

"And then, just as we achieved full Clan membership by passing our Chivas, then were we allowed the honor of true Hunters of the Clans?" Enthusiastic growls of appreciation for his words surrounded Kash'ta as he waxed warmly into his favorite subject, "No! In fact, some of us were not even allowed to mate, but were subjected to unwarranted, unheard-of, FURTHER testing to prove our worth!"

Young Kylfa's voice rumbled the loudest in response to these words. Kash'ta basked for a moment, surrounded by the approval and worship of his Hunters as he was about to drive his plan home. "My most honorable and most worthy Brothers! Further injury and, yes, insult as been added because the plan of furthering the Bloodline through hybrids, like us, has been abandoned. All our training, suffering and degradation was for naught as the original plan, and us along with it, was abandoned for the new path of recreating the Bloodline female through this ooman, this so-called Matriarch – this Sal-lee.

"I call on you to remember that although we escaped we left many of our hybrid Brothers behind. Now what will become of them when the Yautja female is once again part of our society? Will they be killed? Will they be enslaved as aseigan or their worth channeled into the lowest of the low – eta? How can we leave the Homeworld and begin our new Clan knowing that we have abandoned our Brothers to such a fate?"

A sort of conscience dawned on the crew as they heard Kash'ta's diatribe. Clicks and rumbles of support for him and his ideas stimulated his ego to new heights and, in his mind, gave approval to the plans he had formulated. "How can we go and enjoy a new world of peace and plenty when those like us on the Homeworld are tested far beyond the capability of any full-blood Hunter in order to prove themselves? They bleed and die as they try to satisfy the mighty standards of the ones who in their false pride believe that only full-bloods are truly worthy. We passed all their tests, we did more than the full-bloods who attained Chiva before us – in purity we are MORE WORTHY THAN OUR SIRES!"

Clicking cheers went up around him, the crew completely caught up in the emotional statements that placed all blame back on the Sires and trainers who had demanded so much from them. "Knowing this, we must aid our brothers left on Yaut. We cannot take them all on this small ship to travel with us, but there IS something we can do! Something that will pay back our Sires for their racial pride and their plan that goes against nature. We can strike at the heart of their quest to make Yautja females. We can attack the pathetic Matriarch and her unnaturally obtained offspring - those unholy pups born through genetic manipulation which we all know is against our law!"

Kash'ta and the others had conveniently forgotten the genetic manipulation that went into their own creation as they waxed enthusiastically upon their unfair treatment and a possible way to pay their Sires and Elders back.

However, when Kash'ta brought up an attack against the Matriarch and her offspring, the cheering stopped abruptly. How could their little band take on a guarded Matriarch and inflict anything but their own death sentences? The crew humbly asked their Leader to explain. "Brothers, we have a secret weapon, we have Kylfa who has spent time with her and knows of her habits. Think, Kylfa, is there any time when she is alone? When she is vulnerable?" Everyone turned to listen to Kylfa.

"I have not spent time with her since she became Matriarch, Honorable Kash'ta. I do not know how she spends her time, or what she does now. I only know her life back on the hunt ship."

"Then there – what did she do? What activities would have made her vulnerable?"

Kylfa thought and then told the Leader about her Yoga practice, alone in the kehrite. It might be that was something that she still did, he didn't know for sure. "Do you think she would remember you?" the Leader asked him.

"Sei, she would," he replied.

"Good, then you could go to her and pay a visit. You are her Hunt Brother it would not be unusual for you to call upon her to see how she is doing. A brief polite visit would not draw suspicion and you will keep your senses alert to what she is doing and ask her if she still does this physical practice alone."

Kylfa considered, if his Sire had sent the Arbitrators after him, he would be risking his life to visit Sally. But this was a request from his Leader and he saw no way to turn it down. "I will go then and report back what I learn, but my Honorable Leader, I must point out that my Sire may have Arbitrators seeking me."

Kash'ta shook his shoulder, "My Brother, you are wise to mention this. Even though Paya will go with you we cannot risk your capture. We have some time before we make the Homeworld, this medical transport is slower than a Hunt ship, giving us time to plan and prepare. After we eat, let us all speak again and explore ideas on how to approach our Brothers on the Homeworld ."

The Healer's ship was well supplied with food and the Hunters dined on thick slabs of Blue Planet meat along with exotic fruits. Kylfa, remembering his episode on Ulfr's ship after consuming prunes, stuck mainly to the meat. Everything was washed down with an acceptable c'ntlip until the Hunters could eat no more. Stuffed to the mandibles, they sat around the large table with loosened loincloths. One let forth a great belch to the entertainment of the others.

Kash'ta began soliciting ideas from his team and they discussed the matter far into the sleep portion of the cycle. He called for rest to refresh the crew and then went to lay down himself. Sleep would not come for some time as he tossed and turned in a frenzy of feelings and mental images.

Kylfa's mind would not find sleep either as it stayed focused on the abandoned plan of him paying a visit to the Matriarch. He played out scenes in his mind of meeting with Sally again. He had of course heard that she had been proclaimed Matriarch, but he had not seen her since they had left Ulfr's ship on the Homeworld. He had learned of the Elder's death as had all the former crew, and had mourned the loss of so great a Hunter. What had become of Sally since then? His mind wavered between dreaming and reality as it played out their reunion…

"Honorable Kylfa! I thought to never see you again. I am pleased to see one of my Hunt Brothers!" the Matriarch gushed as the dignified Hunter entered her elegant chambers and gave his nod of submission and respect. She rose from her chair and walked down a stairway to meet him, reaching up to give his shoulder a touch. He shook hers with gentleness.

"You look well, Honorable Matriarch. I am pleased to see you again." Kylfa's ooman was not that good, but in his dream-state there were no barriers to communication.

"Please call me Sally, Kylfa. You have grown in stature and strength since I last saw you and have become an even greater Hunter I am told." She ran a hand down the length of his sinewy arm, appreciating the strength she felt there.

Suddenly Kylfa's new Clan Brothers were in the room. With weapons drawn they circled the Matriarch as a look of fear crossed her face and she looked to Kylfa, "What? What is this? Help me!" Those were her last words as Kash'ta and the others cut her down and reduced her to small bleeding pieces.

The young Hunter awakened from the vivid fantasy with fists tightly clamped. Sweat ran down his body both from dreaming of a female touching his body as well as the conflict of feelings that his dream had produced. Sally had never hurt or dishonored him and they shared a Hunt Bond. Could he turn on her? Could he deliver her to his new Clan? _Of course I can_, he growled to himself. _She is only an ooman, a creature to be preyed upon._ He would do whatever it took to stay in the favor of his Leader.

Fully awakened now, he thought of his still unseeded mate probably sleeping in the female quarters. Surely there would be sedistim on this medical transport. He got up and lumbered his way down the corridor to the medical bay.

In the bay Kylfa searched through the storage areas picking up bottles and vials of labeled substances as he scanned for the elixir of ooman mating. Finally, in the far corner of a cabinet he found his treasure – a full vial of sedistim. The label also stated the dosage rate per weight of the female. He guessed at his mate's weight and delivered the dosage into a sanitary needle while the itch to breed began to stimulate his senses. Carefully he placed the needle in his waist pouch and headed to the female quarters.

They were all asleep when Kylfa tapped in the code to silently open the door. Noiselessly he entered, searching the bodies for the familiar form of his mate. Spying her on a fur covered mat in a corner, he stepped over the dosing forms as quietly as the predator he was. None of the women awaked as he negotiated the obstacle course of their bodies bedded on the floor. The room contained only two off-the-floor beds for the women, the rest were on makeshift pallets on the deck plating.

The small woman awakened with a start when the large hand covered her mouth and cupped under her chin. Then she felt another strong arm reach under her furs and grasp around her waist. She knew it was him. She'd often caught him staring at her and wondered what was going through his alien mind. The last time, he'd stopped right in the middle of his lust without finishing. She didn't know why. Now she began to tremble in memory of the smarting, painful pressure and the certainly that he was going to try it again.

Kylfa kept his hand over the female's mouth as he carried her, picking his way cautiously back over the body-strewn floor. Exiting into the corridor, he shut and reset the door lock with a talented toe talon as he continued to hold his mate mute. Then he tucked her back up under his arm and hurried down the hallway to his private quarters.

Once there, he plopped her onto his bed and, before she could let out a squeak from her now uncovered mouth, he tilted her head and delivered the sedistim. She cringed as she felt the jab to her neck and her quivering mouth began to cry. The Hunter stood away from her and waited for the drug to work. He did not have to wait long.

Her fear had only increased when she felt the sting of the needle and the slight burn of the solution where it entered her vein. It coursed through her body bathing her cells in relaxation and warmth. As the stress and fear wound down, a new feeling began in her most intimate parts. The tingling song of arousal began softly in her body and then asserted itself with a great crescendo. She turned her face to the Hunter who stood before her and hungrily devoured his muscled body with her eyes.

Kylfa watched in fascination as the shrinking, tearful female transformed into a sensuous creature who emitted the scent of desire to his huffing mouth. His hands worked without direction to rip off first his own cloth and then, with a single talon, began to tear her makeshift clothing. The falling shreds revealed her panting flesh to him. She willingly opened her legs in invitation not realizing that it freed her scent to reach up and slap him in solicitation of his seed.

With a rumble, Kylfa grabbed and flipped her over to the preferred position. Immediately he prodded her cleft with his knuckle, feeling the beckoning moisture and hearing her voice husk at him in enticement. "Yes, yes, I need you!" she whined, her true feelings overcome with want.

He waited no longer. Again he lined up his body with hers and, remembering the previous experience, slowly eked his way into her warmth. Her responding thrusts back in his direction caught him off guard and he grunted his surprise. No longer cautious he plunged head-first into his own pleasure.

The woman felt the huge Hunter enter her readiness – a blessed relief of hardness and stimulation delving into that place that cried out to be plundered. The soft scales covering the squeezable firmness of engorgement over a central shaft of bone filled her completely. She ignored the stinging as she was stretched slightly beyond her ability to hold.

Kylfa gasped as he felt moist softness encase him, gripping his length as he moved, plunging ever deeper and harder as his seed called out to be freed. He bent to try and grasp her flesh with his tusks, but she was too small for his reach. He withdrew part way which allowed him to encircle her and puncture the tender skin as he continued to pump halfway in and out.

She cried out, not in pain from his bite but from something else, and he felt powerful gripping upon him while she shrieked and jerked in the grasp of his jaws. He met her spasms with a mighty roar as she slipped from his bite while he plunged back within her and seed spewed forth into her depth.

Kylfa waited, still inside her, catching his breath. Each inhale brought the odor of rut to his brain, and the Hunter who had been denied for so long found himself ready to enjoy again. The female protested weakly at his renewal of movement, but another touch of the needle made her ready again. When he was finally finished, the female was nearly unconscious but, to his satisfaction, had not bled much. Wrapping her in a fur, he carried her back through the ship to her room where all her room mates were still slumbering. Placed her back upon her corner of furs, he tucked her in. Tomorrow he would scan her and see if there was new life forming within.

If there was, he would finally be worthy in the eyes of his shipmates whose relentless taunts of him regarding the barren mate assaulted his pride. If she was not, he had an entire bottle of sedistim and the rest of the trip to implant her. If she did not become pregnant by the time they reached Yaut there was something wrong with either her ability to bear, or his ability to Sire.

Kylfa shuddered at the horrifying thought. If he could not sire, he would be castrated and sent to the ranks of aseigan or eta. He nearly ran back to the med bay and consulted the computer there about available tests. A simple one was located, but after an hour of trying which resulted in a cramped hand and overly tender phallus, he found his production of sperm was depleted. He could produce nothing adequate to test. He would have to wait for at least half a cycle to try again.

* * *

The new cycle had begun and Kash'ta continued listening to his Hunter's ideas. His enthusiasm for doing damage to the Matriarch was not tempered, but he realized the wisdom in the crew's comments that she was probably guarded and their numbers were small. In order to conduct a successful mission, they needed a greater force.

He was also congratulating himself for having reconsidered the idea of having Kylfa visit the Matriarch. If Kylfa's Sire had alerted the Arbitrators that he was missing, they would be searching for him. It was an unacceptable risk to permit his capture and interrogation. Many a brave Yautja had been broken down by their techniques, let alone a green youthful Hunter.

Demonstrating his inexperienced leadership, Kash'ta changed his mind again and now decided that the best course would be deliberately damage the ship and then jettison it near the surface as they exited via the ever-present drop ships. The drop ships would be difficult to detect that close to the surface. They could make a landing in the jungle and then head toward its deepest depths. No serious Hunters foraged in that part of Yaut anymore. Only the Unblooded in training would hunt the jungles, and Kash'ta felt that they could be easily avoided. It was their trainers that would present challenge.

From the jungle his crew could venture briefly into the outskirts of civilization looking for their hybrid brothers. Once found, they would gradually recruit them to join them in their cause. Only when their numbers were sufficient would they attack the Matriarch.

_And what of mating,_ Kash'ta wondered. He decided that the group would have to indulge their own mating hunts on the Blue Planet in order to keep peace within the Clan, which meant that they would need to steal another ship. With females, their numbers would swell in time and they would need many ships when they eventually transported off Yaut.

It came to him in a rush – if they were successful in destroying the Matriarch, perhaps they would not have to leave the planet! Perhaps Yaut could be their home after all. He would just have to wait and see. His relieved crew clicked their agreement to his new plan. Kash'ta's original idea had struck them all as a suicide mission. The new plan was their best option, but it did depend on plunging the drop ships into the atmosphere at the last minute. It would be an excessively bumpy and dangerous ride.

The women were awakening and slowly getting up from their beds. All except for one female over in the corner still wrapped up in her night furs. "Let her sleep in," said officer Duncan. "I think she could use the extra sleep. Let's see what our 'hosts' have for breakfast." The women left as a group, leaving the one still napping in the corner.

"I'm not hungry," one of the women said as they walked to the Yautja equivalent of a mess hall.

"Really?" said the red-head, who acted as their self-appointed leader, "We haven't eaten in at least a day, I think." She looked questioningly at the hunger denier and her pale face.

"Well…I would eat, but I keep getting sick to my stomach early in the day. You don't suppose they have anything for that do you?"

When they reached the dining area the Hunters were already gathered around several of the tables, gulping down chucks of raw meat. The women crowded around another table and waited. None of the Yautja made a move to give them anything. Duncan made a point of staring at her Hunter while he gorged himself. His meal fully engaged him in grasping the tough strands of meat with his tusks and then ripping them from the large bone he held firmly with both hands.

Disgusted and hungry, the red head got up from her table and boldly walked over to her mate. She stared plainly at him but stayed out of his reach. "We are hungry," she stated. The Hunter made a mild glance her way and continued his feast. "God-damn-it! I said we are hungry! Where is our food?"

A food-filled mouth growled at her but did not stop bolting down its meal. Duncan continued her defiant stare, knowing she was baiting a dangerous creature. Another backhand could be fatal. He finally threw down his chew toy in annoyance, wiped his hands and stomped over to the food store. Fetching a container he filled it with fruits and shoved it at Duncan. Taking it she inquired, "And water? We need water too."

He pointed to the low shelf of drinking vessels and then grabbed a large beaker. He filled it from a wall tap and shoved it into her body, causing the water to slosh and spill on her. "You don't have to be so pissy!" she barked, and then bobbed as she saw his arm move.

He chortled at her anticipation of his blow and retorted, "Get up…before. You late. Do again…no eat." Then he returned to his breakfast. Duncan managed to get her load back to the woman's table, muttering to them, "Thanks for the help." The women had all been too fearful to think of leaving the table to go help her with the fruit and water.

"I'm sorry," one of them said. "You are so brave to stand up to them for all of us. Thank you." A soft chorus of gratitude went up from all the females around the table. The fruit and water was divided among them. It was not much, and they could have used some protein but, considering everything, they decided to be grateful for what Duncan had obtained for them.

They made sure to save a piece of fruit and some water for the women they had left sleeping back in their room. When they were finished eating and made to return to their quarters, Kylfa walked over and stopped them. "Where is my female?" he asked.

Duncan answered him, "We left her sleeping. For some reason, she was very tired this morning." Her green eyes accused him, but she kept her tongue. She had slept soundly through his middle-of-the-might intrusion and now wondered why the woman was so fatigued this morning. Kylfa widened his face at her staring eye contact and she looked down. "Go, feed her," he ordered. "I will see her later. Go!"

The women hurried away, eager to leave the uncomfortable presence of the Hunters. They entered their room to find their companion still asleep. One woman went over to her and gently shook her, "Wake up, wake up!" A low moan answered her and all the other women were immediately at her side.

"What's wrong?" Duncan asked, already figuring the answer.

"I hurt…everywhere. The Hunter…he…he took me last night…over and over." She hid her face in her hands feeling shame over something that had not been within her control. "I let him! How could I?" Some of the women set down beside her and tried to offer comfort. Another went to prepare the large bathing tub with soothing warm water. The group helped her slowly hobble to the bathroom and enter the healing soak. Together, they tenderly bathed her like she was a little child, all the while lulling her with kindly words.

After the stiff, sore woman had been tended, they fed her the meager ration and encouraged her to drink the water. While she was eating, Duncan stood with her fists clenched in rage. This was only a girl! And she had been a virgin before the oafish one had mauled her the first time. Now she was probably pregnant. If she ever had the chance to kill a Hunter – especially that one, there would be no hesitation on her part. Better yet, if she ever got the chance to hurt one, she would make sure his demise was painfully slow and humiliating.

True to his word, Kylfa came later in the cycle to check on his mate. The other women parted to both sides of the small room when the Hunter came in, wearing one of the masks they used when on Earth, Duncan noticed. He stood in the room and just stared at the still bruised and sore woman who backed into a corner under the steely soulless gaze of the mask. Then clicking to himself, he turned and left. On maximum magnification, his mask had registered the small heated shape of the dividing ball of cells that was traveling down her reproductive tube. He would check again tomorrow to ascertain that the tiny lifecraft had safely landed on the fertile ground of her womb and had taken root to begin nourishing itself.

* * *

Every other cycle, without fail, the Badblood crew's Healer set up shop in the medical bay and had all the females brought to him for a checkup and scanning. The pregnancies were going well. He had conjured up a remedy for the female who was spending her cycles plagued with nausea and it seemed to be helping. The youngest female was now on his table and under the eye of the scanner. To the Healer's surprise she was pregnant! _Honor and praise to Paya, _he thought, _Da'dtou-di the bleeder of females finally did it! _He had bequeathed Kylfa and his phallus the mental title of 'little knife' ever since the young Hunter's initial attempt had ended in a mess of ooman-blood from his uncontrolled pummeling.

The Badblood Healer was worried. He didn't think it was a good idea to drop ship pregnant ooman females, even though they would each be cradled and carried by their Hunter. The scene flashed before him of the previous drop ship landing and the fractured neck vertebrae of the Second's female that had killed her. What females would be killed or injured by this drop? And how many pups would be lost? There seemed no alternative. The Healer's transport was programmed to return to Yaut. Any other destination would arouse suspicion – something they could not chance. Shaking off a feeling of impending doom, he returned to his job of checking on the females. They would be entering Yaut's atmosphere soon.

* * *

Duncan and the other women were in their room when the Hunter's entered. Wide-eyed they backed up tensely wondering _what now?_ Kylfa, as the best speaker, entered first. "We are taking you to our world. Come, now!"

The females balked a bit at the order and Duncan stated suspiciously, "I didn't feel the ship land."

"We will land soon, come NOW!"

With no choice, the herd left the comparative safety of their quarters and accompanied their Hunters down the corridor. Soon they entered the drop ship bay. Duncan glanced around, a sickening feeling growing internally alongside her fetal child. "I remember this place," she stated loudly, "this can't be the only technology you guys have to land! What's going on?" She turned to face the Leader who pushed at Kylfa.

The young Hunter obliged, "We must go this way. Ship will crash. We must go, NOW!"

_You guys go through a lot of damn equipment!_ was her thought as Kash'ta embraced her body and lifted her to his chest. _God help us all survive this time. _She had no time to check on the others as they were inside the claustrophobic tube in seconds. "Hold steady, I don't want my head bashed in." She eyeballed her living safety harness.

"You safe," he rumbled back, shifting into a wider stance and crouching a bit. Then they went over the edge of the waterfall and fell.

The only thing keeping Duncan from smashing against the tube's ceiling was the untold strength of her Hunter's arms. He kept her pressed against him until it was difficult for her to even breathe as the gravity missile sped downward. The guidance engines shuttered to life but the woman did not hear them. All that existed was falling, falling, falling – as though this elevator of death had lost its cables inside the world's tallest building.

The impact came at a slight angle and the red-head felt her teeth snap together as the Hunter took the brunt of the sudden stop. Had it not been for his support of her head and neck, a skull-popping whiplash would have ended her life immediately. As it was, she did a mental survey of all her parts as Kash'ta slowly expanded his arms and let her down. Looking up at him, sweating from the great effort, she asked, "Are you alright?" A head cock was her reply. Then the tube door opened, allowing in the humid hot jungle air and he slightly pushed her as a signal to leave. _I guess you are ok. I would not have survived that alone._

Turning back to the huge Hunter, Duncan said, "Thank you for keeping me safe." He nodded and then began to look for the others. Tall tree-like plants were growing everywhere, with trunks as thick as Redwoods. The Leader followed the wrist com signals to locate the others. Soon the group was reassembled underneath the giant 'trees'.

Duncan looked around, all the women seemed intact. The nauseous one had blessed her Hunter's chest with vomit, which he ignored for now. She stood wiping at her face and glancing down at her own clothing in dismay. "You okay?" Duncan questioned.

"Yes. I couldn't help it after we landed. At least he's not mad at me," she whispered back.

The Leader pulled her arm without a word and the group began to trek, each Hunter with his female, deeper into the interior of the jungle. The trees were very large here and shaded the ground so that little else grew here. The going was fairly easy as the women jogged to keep up with their mates.

Kash'ta was confident they could survive well here – for a very long time. Long enough to increase their numbers and prepare to be Paya's claws of vengeance upon the Matriarch and her pups. His satisfied clicks carried to the rest of the Yautja and they echoed his positive mood back to him.


	19. The Nature of the Beast

**Chapter 18: The Nature of the Beast**

_**Too often we give our children answers to remember rather than problems to solve.  
**__**- Roger Lewin**_

The Matriarch's normally tidy quarters were in shambles as Hunters lifted and turned over chairs and storage containers. Clicking and muttering, they went through the stacks of furs, rolls of leather and boxes of spare clothing. Hurriedly they turned out the contents of every box, bag, and satchel - anything that could hide a small pup. Upon finding nothing, they moved on with the search.

Mel felt real physical pain inside, fearing what might have happened to her daughter. She and Sally walked through the apartment calling out, "Signý! Signý! Where are you?" Melanie's voice was beginning to strain and she fought the tears trying to fill her eyes. Surely nothing could have happened to her little girl, but it appeared that her young offspring was nowhere to be found.

The pups were now all walking, true to Sally's forecast when the two friends had witnessed Ulfrde pull herself to her feet and launch a tottery pace. Her sisters had watched in awe and soon, in the spirit of true Yautjas, all were on their feet eyeing the world from two-footed imbalance. With daily practice the entire group quickly became accomplished walkers.

Always excited and in a hurry to explore their world, the pups' next feat was running. After a few futilely clawing wipe-outs when rounding corners, the frantic pups learned to balance themselves at high speed on the smooth stone floors which now bore scars in the rooms near the long hallways. Myn'dill had treated the youngling's floor burns and bruises, and they were now no worse for the wear.

When Aldúlfr had witnessed them run, he quickly ushered them out of the house in their bare feet onto a nearby green space under guard. The little pups were thrilled to be outside again, a treat rarely offered as they were still very small. In the yard upon the dirt, the girls walked unevenly over the rougher ground until they felt fairly well balanced. Then a few of the braver ones tried to run. Squeals of happiness split the air as they found they could run even faster than inside on the stone floors. Instinctively, their toe claws dug in to give them security and leverage with each bounding stride.

The Elder Arbitrator was delighted and was soon conducting pup races for the viewing pleasure of their Sires. The gathering of senior Hunters was all too pleased to place increasingly lavish bets on who would win. It was wonderful exercise for the pups and soon a preferred social gathering for their Sires.

Sally was amused when she learned what Aldúlfr had organized and would often attend the races herself. However, she raised an objection when the Sires wanted to handicap the usual winners by strapping weight to their bodies. Myn'dill backed her, saying that the pups were too small to sustain such an exercise without damage.

Because of the races, the young females leaned in a flash that superior performance in competition garnered attention and approval from males. Winners were praised and often lifted high up over their siblings in the midst of roars of acclaim. Huge grins adorned the winning pup's face as she basked in the accolades and gazed down from the dizzying height of her Sire's shoulder. Thus the pups were shown the value of not only male admiration, but of group esteem and began to realize competition among themselves.

This was hard on Ulfrde who was used to being the undisputed Leader. She often pouted as racing was not her sport and she consistently was beaten by the more lithe pups in the group. Eventually, she was consoled by the Consort who assured her that when they were of age to spar – few would surpass her.

When the pups had first taken to walking, the frantic mothers had called on the aseigan and all had rushed to pup-proof the apartment. With twenty-one toddling baby Yautja exploring the residence, it was simply easier to put everything out of reach instead of trying to watch and reprimand them all.

Just last cycle, Sally had taught the little ones how to play the Earth game of hide-and-seek. The Consort had been greatly intrigued by the seeking part of this game as it began to teach valuable hunting skills. He was not so certain about the hiding part though – that smacked of learning how to evade an Arbitrator! However, since one had to hide in order for the others to seek, he gave it his wary approval.

Now this cycle, after the morning meal, the little females had decided to play it again. Their mothers watched in amusement as Ulfrde, the largest and self-appointed leader, directed Signý to hide. She scampered off, short locks bobbing and loincloth flapping away, her tiny toes playing staccato on the stone floor as she ran. The rest hid their eyes behind their taloned hands and counted in Yautja to one-hundred then shouted in growling baby-pronounced falsetto English, "Ready or not! Here we come."

Off they tore in twenty different directions, all huffing to get their prey's scent. Hide and seek for a Yautja was difficult on the hider, as the seekers could readily follow scent. The hider had to provide a crisscrossing complex trail that wove confusingly around the dwelling.

The pups had searched and searched for Signý. It was nearly mid-cycle when they gave up and ran through the house shouting, "Signý! You win! You come out!" She never appeared. Confused and somewhat frightened, they ran to their Bearer who had gone on to do other things when it appeared that her girls would entertain themselves that morning.

"Ka! Ka!" they called for her. Hearing the alarm in their voices, Sally bolted from her chair in the library and ran to them.

"What is wrong?" she asked, seeing the worry on their small faces.

Arndís, Ulfrde's sister and partner in leadership, spoke first, "Ka, we not find Signý. We hunt and hunt and call, but she will not come out. Make her come out, Ka!"

Mel and Sally looked at each other in alarm. Sally hit her wrist com to signal Yin and Yang. "Have you seen Signý?" They replied no, and asked what was wrong. Sally told them and in short order the house was filled with Hunters searching for the pup and destroying the organization of the house in the process.

The tiny sisters were trying to help the large Hunters In their search. They wiggled into the small spaces around the house they had already previously searched and then emerged proclaiming, "Not there!" before going on to find the next place. They were in the kitchen, trying to keep from being stepped on by the aseigan who were busy preparing a meal, when a small dark form scurried out from under the food storage door and ran across the floor into the adjoining hallway. The girls watched the creature run from them and one thought simultaneously formed a burning coal in their minds – PREY!

A chorus of immature, screeching, growls went up and the children were off, racing after their quarry like a pack of screech owl hounds. The terrified creature gave small twitters of his own as he sped on all fours into the next room where Sally and Mel were searching for Signý. Their calls were interrupted as a rat-like thing tore into the room followed by a mob of tiny Hunters intent on making a kill. The Bearers watched in amazement as Ulfrde, who by virtue of shoving was in the lead, cornered the tiny creature. In a single lunge she captured it in her hands and quickly pulled its head off.

Sally and Mel's amazement turned to disgust and shock as Ulfrde held up the dripping head, splayed her tiny mandibles and let out a soprano growl of victory. Sally was immediately reminded of Ulfr's primal side and let out an audible gasp. The child turned her head and held her Bearer's green eyes with her own brown ones which seemed to glow with an inner light. A strange chill went through Sally.

The Consort entered the room in a flash, having heard his daughter's cry of triumph. "Well done!" he congratulated her. "If you will lend me your trophy I will show you how to clean it properly and we will mount it."

"Sei, K'var! Sei! Me take trofee," she proudly proclaimed, coming down from her victory high.

"Now let us continue our search for your sister," he directed. The pups went back to looking for small places to crawl into, and the women went back to walking through the apartment calling for the missing child.

The Matriarch had never seen Sig'dan so upset and worried. He tore through the closets pulling out clothing and furs, throwing them to the ground. He'd not said a word to Melanie who by now was white as a ghost. She wondered if perhaps he blamed her for not keeping a better eye on their daughter. But now was not the time to talk to him about it. She continued searching.

After all the rooms on every floor had been scoured, the Hunters met with Sally and Mel in the Matriarch's reception room. "Is it possible that she found a way out of these quarters?" asked Sig'dan to the women.

"I contacted the door guards first thing," Sally replied. "They did not see her. Do you think she figured out how to climb through a window?"

A certain look came over Sig'dan's face, "Climb? Oh Paya. She's very young to try that skill, let alone accomplish it. We need to check the wall-tops and outside! He directed four of the Hunters to look for small footprints under the windows outside.

To the others he directed, "Up! Up Brothers!" and, to the women's amazement, the huge Hunters began to scale the walls. Using their iron talons to grip into any tiny crack, flaw or protrusion on the stone face they climbed. Once near the ceiling, they looked over the stone ledges and niches containing statues that decorated the top edge of the tall walls.

"I see her!" shouted a Hunter.

"Where?" Sig'dan yelled.

The Hunter pointed to a niche. Sig'dan worked the wall over to the designated place and, like a gymnast, swung up onto the wall-top ledge. There, curled up on the hard surface, was his bloodline – fast asleep with one small arm shielding her eyes from the light. She had grown tired of waiting to be found and fallen into that deep sleep of innocence, so deep that none off the commotion below had awakened her.

Sig'dan gently touched her shoulder, "Signý, wake up."

The pup's eyes opened in slits and she yawned, "Sei, K'var", using the infantile familial term for Sire.

"You have been sleeping. Are you hungry?"

"Sei." Then she remembered the game. "K'var, me play hide game, and they not find me," she raised her little upper mandibles in a smile.

"They did not, my clever pup! You did well and I am proud of you." Signý beamed in response to her Sire's words. "Let us get down and eat." The pup obediently scrambled to his back and Sig'dan climbed down the wall with her hanging on him.

When they reached the floor, Mel was waiting with open arms. Signý jumped from her Sire down to her Bearer causing Mel to recoil at the impact and give a small 'uff'.

"She climbed the wall!" Sig'dan exclaimed to Mel. "At her age, she climbed!" He could not suppress his pride.

"You are not angry with me then?"

"Angry? Mel-an-ee, why would I be angry with you?"

"I thought you might be mad because our daughter was missing. I thought you might think that I didn't watch her close enough." Mel spoke softly in embarrassment.

"I am confident that the care you and Sally and the aseigan give our pups is excellent." Then Sig'dan leaned in closer to Mel's ear and whispered, "How could I be angry with you? Our pup has excelled!" He ran a thumb over her cheek in fondness and felt her slight recoil. If he were human, he would have sighed. For the rest of his life he would regret his forced taking of her.

Sally and Mel took the hungry pup to the dining area and fixed her a meal. She wolfed down her meat so fast that the women wondered if she had even tasted it. Then she drank two flasks of water and finally proclaimed herself full and in need of toileting. Mel rushed her to the facility as she knew the little pup could not wait long once she felt the need to go.

Sig'dan sat down at a table, his jaws in the slight equivalent of a human frown. "Why the long face?" Sally asked him.

"Mel-an-ee," he replied. "She will never be fond of me I fear. Does she still speak of returning to the Blue Planet?"

"She has not spoken of it in some time. I think her daughter is her focus right now. We'll see if this idea of returning resurfaces. And concerning the other – I think that the partnership that you have with her right now in raising your daughter is all you can expect from her Sig'dan. If it weren't for your daughter I don't know that she would even speak to you. I don't want to hurt you, but I believe you know the truth of my words."

"I do. In purity, I don't know why I keep seeking her…affection."

"Perhaps what you really want is her forgiveness," Sally gave him one of her piercing looks. Mel had never given her the details of Sig'dan's taking of her, and in fact, the Matriarch didn't want to hear them, but she knew the mating had been forced under the influence of the Yautja human mating drug.

The Hunter's conscience prickled at her statement, and he knew he was hearing truth. He said nothing, but Sally saw the introspection in his eyes and hoped that he would consider her words.

Mel returned with a much more comfortable Signý in her arms. "Where my sisters?" the girl asked. All the young females referred to each other as sisters, even though Signý had a different mother than the rest.

"They are napping," her Bearer answered, "Would you like to join them? You may not be sleepy but you could lie quietly on your bed until they awaken."

"Yes, please, Ka." The pup snuggled against her mother as Mel carried her to the room where her sisters slumbered. The pup was nearly too heavy for her to carry for any distance, but she made it to the child's bed and carefully placed her upon it. Tucking a fur around her, she pressed a finger to her own lips and then to Signý's forehead.

"Rest well, my dear. Remember that I love you," Mel whispered.

"Me love you, Ka," the pup whispered back, "Me love K'var too."

"That is good, you should love him – he is your Sire. Now rest." Mel left to go to her quarters. She was exhausted emotionally from the entire ordeal and a nap sounded wonderful. She informed Sally where she was going via the com.

Signý looked thoughtful as her Bearer left, _K'var is Sire. What is Sire? I must ask Ka. H'ko, would be gooder to ask K'var. Sei, me ask K'var._ Satisfied that she had thought it through, the little pup rolled on her side and was soon fast asleep.

Sally also decided that a nap sounded ideal after the stress of the morning and offered to share her bed with Sig'dan. He was astounded that anyone would require sleep during the light of the cycle, but decided that he would not turn down an opportunity to share private time with her.

The couple were awakened by the sound of little talons scrabbling on the floor and the soft voices of twenty-one pups as they surrounded the bed trying to be quiet, "Walk quiet!" a voice stage-whispered in a mixture of English and Yautja that Sig'dan called 'Yautgla' and Sally called 'Yenglish', "Must not wake them. They are tired b'cause of Sig'ney."

"They are not! Me K'var proud me is gooder than any of you!" Signý's small voice became louder in her defense of herself.

"Quiet! Loud mouth!"

"Am not loud mouth! Who made you Leader, Ulfrde?"

"Ulfrde IS Leader, be quiet!" another voice chimed in.

"Arndís, talk too much. Be quiet you…you…you…ba-gine-a jaws!"

"Ba-gine-a jaws? What that? You…you pauk-de!"

A collective gasp went up from the little girls, and a slight tremor began to quake the adult's bed where the pups were grouped near the foot end. None of the pups noticed as they were engrossed in their argument.

"Ba-gine-a jaws, Ba-gine-a jaws!" sang Sig'ney. "Ka tell me - ba-gin-a is ooman for where pee comes from."

Arndís clicked aggravatingly, "Not BA-gine-a! Stupid pauk-de! VA-gine-a"

"You say bad word, Arndis! You say p-word one million times! Me tell Ka! You bad pup…you so bad they not let you go on Chiva. Va-gine-a jaws!"

At this a roar came out of Arndís as she launched herself at Sig'ney. The daughter of Sig'dan braced herself when she saw her sister coming at her and grappled back, clawing and hissing in anger. The two sisters rolled around on the floor in mortal combat, oblivious to all around them. The other pups gathered in a circle, both frightened and excited by the fight.

Sally and Sig'dan had been enjoying every word of the argument and shaking with laughter after Arn'dis' utterance of foul Yautja and Signý's misuse of English. Then they heard the scuffles and intense growls of two pups engaged in a serious physical fight. Sally jumped up faster than Sig'dan realized she could move and was on the floor trying to disengage the pups. "Let me, Sal-lee!" he shouted to her as he hit the floor right behind her.

The pups were small, but their growing talons could injure the Matriarch's soft skin. And even at this early age, riled pups could be difficult to separate. Shouting their names, Sally reached for Arn'dis. The small pup felt the hand grasp her shoulder, instinctively she whirled around and, without even identifying who had touched her or what their intent was, she opened her jaws and bit down with her tiny fangs – hard.

A loud yelp came from Sally's mouth. The woman stared in horror, not at the breaking of her own flesh, but at the unseeing blood-thirsty eyes of the small pup that she loved and had cuddled at her breast. The eyes before her did not belong to that little girl - they were the eyes of an animal – a killer, and stirred some vague feeling of recognition in the Matriarch. Instinctively Sally responded to the fear that raised the hair on the back of her neck and she used her other open hand to deliver a smack to the side of Arn'dis' head. The vicious animal immediately fled the pup's eyes and she released Sally's hand, backing away with her side-jaws gaping in a howl of pain and surprise. Other than a small tap of reprimand, she had never actually been hit or hurt by an adult and she was bewildered. Her own Ka had struck her!

Sig'dan went to Arn'dis with a stern growl, "Arn'dis! You bit your Bearer! That is unacceptable behavior. What do you think your punishment should be?"

The child turned her eyes to her Bearer, "Ka! Ka!"

"Pleading for your Bearer will not help you." He moved a hand to signal Sally to stay where she was and not interfere.

"What should your punishment be?"

Arn'dis thought, and then answered, sounding much more mature than her tiny size indicated, "Honorbul Sig'dan, I will tell Ka I sorry, and I will, I will…" She looked down at the floor, "I not know." She lowered her head in sorrow, "I bad, bad pup. Help me, Uncle?"

"Sei, I will. First, you will ask your Bearer for her forgiveness. Then you will find your Sire, the Consort, and ask his forgiveness for what you have done. Then you will obtain cleaning supplies from the house aseigans and clean the bathing pool in your Bearer's quarters until it so clean that you can see your reflection in it. Do you understand?"

"Sei," the little voice quavered. "I ask forgiv…forgiv…how do you say it?

"For-give-ness."

"For-give-ness. I ask for-give-ness. Uncle Sig'dan, you want me clean all Ka's big bath?"

"Sei."

"Honorbul Sig'dan, I not big. Only big pup reach whole pool."

"You must figure out how to clean it all. Report to me when you have finished all these tasks and not before. This is your problem to solve. Do you understand, little one?"

"Sei, I unerstand."

"Good, then go!" Sig'dan growled slightly and she trotted back over to Sally.

Looking down at the floor, Arn'dis began, "Honorbul Ka, my Bearer, ask for-give-ness for my ackshuns."

Sally spoke, taking her cue from Sig'dan's words, "And what actions would that be?"

Arndís was taken aback, she actually had to say it? The Matriarch waited, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Bite you, Honorbul Ka." The admission came as the pup studiously examined the floor.

"And why is that wrong to do, Arndís?"

Arndís thought, "Hurt you?"

"Yes, you did, but that is not truly the reason why it was wrong. Try again."

A long silence filled the room as Arn'dis thought. She finally tried another answer, "Was wrong beekuz you Matreeark."

"Well, it is true I am the Matriarch. Why is it wrong for you to bite the Matriarch?"

Arndís thought again and her brows rose expressively when she thought of a new answer, "Not honorbul to bite you, Ka. B'cause…beekuz you are Matreeark and Bearer and Elder. I respeckt you."

"That is a good answer," Sig'dan piped in, "but there is another part of it, you should have identified who had touched you before attacking them. In the fight, you must know who your enemy is and who your Hunt Brothers are. What have you gained for your Clan if you attack and injure, or even kill your own Clan Brother or Sister?"

"I not think that. Thank you Honorbul Sig'dan for lessun." Arndís bowed to him in genuine humility.

"Now, off to your Sire, youngling and then on to clean the pool," Sig'dan ordered. "Let me see your hand Sal-lee." She gave him her bleeding and bruised hand for inspection. "This is not a shallow bite, come with me to the medical hall and let me repair this before it becomes infected."

"She is growing so fast Sig'dan and learning much from all of you Hunters. I am proud of all of them, but twice today I saw something in their eyes that I have not seen before. I saw their raw Yautja instinct when they were hunting a small animal in the house, and when Arndís bit me. Honestly, I was afraid, Sig'dan! Afraid of my own daughters. I think I see now why they need to go into training."

"Yes. What you saw was the base truth that is in each of us. It must come under discipline and learn to be controlled and utilized properly. Otherwise she and the other pups will amount to nothing. They will be as wild and dangerous as animals, Sal-lee. The only thing that tames us, that makes us civilized is out code and our devotion to honor."

"I think I am beginning to understand, Sig'dan."

"Good, this is good. I am pleased that you saw this in the pups and have realized why the training is important. I would like to take all the pups into training very soon - sooner than I had expected. Normally their Yautja Bearers could handle them at this age, but you and Mel are not Yautja, obviously. They will move out of your quarters and Mel-an-ee's too, and into the training quarters that you supervised the construction of. You and Mel-an-ee will see them during training, but visits with their Bearers are something they must earn. Will you agree to this?"

Sally gave a large outbreath. "How would their Yautja Bearers handle them at this point?

"They would do exactly as you did, give them a hit when they deserve it. The pups will respect physical strength. You did well when you hit Arndís, she will not bite you again."

"Well, couldn't Mel and I simply spank the girls when they are naughty?"

"You could, but what about separating them during a fight? They will fight often now. Shortly, they will be stronger than you, Sal-lee."

Let me think upon it and I will give you my answer next cycle. I must inform Mel also of this and see what her reaction is. Can you wait until tomorrow?"

"I will wait."

"And Sal-lee – the way you questioned Arndís, what you asked her – those were the wise words of a Yautja Bearer and I am impressed."

A small pup wandered the hallways of the Matriarch's dwelling looking for the Consort. He was not within, so Arndís pondered what she should do. Coming to a decision, she went to the entrance door. She was too small to reach the com, and the door was surrounded by metal carvings so there was no stone for her to ascend. She tested the carvings and found them slippery under her hands and feet. There would be no climbing to the com.

She balled up her little fist and began pounding on the door. Outside, Yin and Yang were at their usual guard duty when they heard a small sound coming through the heavy door. "What is that?" Yin asked Yang, who put his head to the door.

"It sounds like someone rapping on the door very weakly. Perhaps there is a problem inside." Yang opened the doorway and looked inside to see no one.

"Down here," a small rumbly squeak directed.

Yin and Yang looked down to see Arn'dis standing before them, puffing herself up to look more important.

"How may we be of service, offspring of the Matriarch?" They both bowed to her, completely entertained by the small charmer.

"Must speak with Consort and he not here. You find him?"

"You have business with the Consort?" asked Yang, barely able to control his clicks of humor.

"Sei! Honorbul Uncle Sig'dan say so. You take me?"

"We are on duty, small one, and we cannot abandon our post." The little pup's countenance fell, and Yin quickly responded, "Fear not, I will signal him on my com of your request." Tapping his com, a rumble answered and he replied, "Honorable Consort, your offspring Arn'dis requests an audience to speak with you. She is unable to leave the Matriarch's apartment and so requests that you come to her here."

"Oh she does, does she?" the rumble replied, clicking with good humor. "Then tell her I will be most pleased to honor her request."

"He grants you your request, Arndís. He will come."

The small female Yautja paused, trying to remember what her Bearer always said to the guards whenever they returned home from being escorted by them. "Thank you for your service," she replied in imitation of her Bearer and then regally spun around and walked back into the house, leaving two very amused Hunters to continue guarding the front door.

Arndís was in her Bearer's reception room when Aldúlfr arrived. He came through the connecting doorway between his apartment and Sally's, catching his little pup by surprise. "Honorable K'var," she began, "I been bad. Need for-give-ness." She bowed low to him.

"What have you done that requires it?"

"I fight with sister, I winning, and Ka try to stop us. I turn and not see who grab me. I…I…I bite her, and I bad pup – very bad." The small child stood in front of her adopting Sire, waiting for yet another punishment to be delivered.

"You bit your own Ka? Why are you asking my forgiveness, it is your Ka you should beg it from."

"I do it all ready, Honorbul K'var."

"So why are you here then?"

"Honorbul Sig'dan say I ask you."

"I see. Well, then did he direct you to do anything else?"

"Sei, I must clean Ka's bath pool…but I not reach all of it!" Ulfrde wailed her distress to Aldúlfr.

"I see, so did you tell this to Honorable Sig'dan?"

"Sei. He say it my problem."

"And so it is, little one." Aldúlfr spoke most seriously to her. "Do you have any ideas about how to accomplish this?"

"H'ko, no ideea." Her face frowned further and she slyly looked up at the Consort, hoping that her plight would engage his sympathy.

"Then you have much thinking to do, Arndís. I will leave you to your mental and physical work." He left the forlorn pup standing in the hall, sorrowing because her K'var would not take any of this responsibility from her.

Perplexed, she went to the aseigan and gathered the cleaning fluid and worn cloths. Then she walked to her Bearer's sleeping chamber and entered the private bathroom to find the pool. The little pup stood at the edge with cleansing weapons in hand, pondering the great size of the bath. _This HUGE. Can walk steps down to bottom, but how I reach top edge? l think while I clean bottom, _she decided and gamely climbed down into the pool.

Determined to make amends for her error, she gave the bottom a good squirt of cleaner and got down on her knees to begin wiping the floor. It took her at least a quarter-cycle to finish the floor. Then she began to do the walls, from the floor up to as high as she could reach. She was halfway around the pool when, looking back, she realized that her sandals were leaving marks on the clean bottom.

Disgusted she clambered up the pool stairs, sat down and removed the offending footwear. Then she examined her feet. Going over to the large shower she reached up for the control and found it was too high. How could she clean her feet? A solution occurred to her and she ran back into the sleeping chamber. There was a human sized chair at a table for her Ka, and Arndís found she could drag it over the floor into the bathroom and over to the sink.

The pup thoroughly cleansed her feet taking great care to get between her claws where the dirt sometimes hid. They she dried herself with a nearby cloth and climbed down. Another idea had occurred to her!

She drug the chair over to the pool and with great effort clunked it down the stairs to the bottom. With the help of the chair she could reach nearly to the top of the pool sides. Elated with her discovery, the child spent the rest of the cycle dragging the chair around the tub and cleaning the walls. When they were clean, she pulled the chair over to the steps and began to pull it out of the tub. She was tired and it was heavy, but she managed with great strain to drag it up the steps and back to her Ka's sleeping room.

Then she returned to redo the pool bottom from her earlier dirt tracks and now the chairs drag marks. When she could see her reflection in on the floor, she wearily climbed out and got down on her hands and knees to do the small strip at the top edge where she had not been able to reach. Over and over she wet the cloth with the fluid and then reached over the edge to scrub and polish as she crawled along. By the time the task was finally completed it was well past the evening meal and nearly time for sleep.

Arndís took her cleaning supplies to the aseigans and asked them for some food. The rest of her family had dined already and her sisters were getting ready for bed. The aseigans had been directed by Sig'dan and Sally regarding the little pup's punishment tasks. An aseigan looked down at her, "Little One, have you reported your task as done to Honorable Sig'dan?"

"No," she replied. "I hungry! Eat first."

"The Matriarch has directed us to tell you to make your report to Sig'dan first." The aseigan bowed to the child and resumed his work. Arndís would have argued or at least stomped her feet, but she was too tired. Instead she turned and went to seek out Sig'dan.

She found him talking with her K'var and Ka still at the dining table. From the mouth-watering scent she could tell there was still meat and fruit on the table, along with c'ntlip. All attention turned to her as she neared the group and bowed her head down in front of Sig'dan.

"Sei?" he questioned.

"I done what you said, Honorbul Sig'dan."

He turned to Sally, "I heard her ask for your forgiveness, Honorable Matriarch. Is it given?"

"Sei, it is."

Then addressing the Consort, Sig'dan maintained his deliberate and serious manner, "Honorable Consort, did this pup come and ask you for forgiveness?"

"She did," he rumbled, "and told me why it was requested."

"Do you give it to her?"

"I do," he answered, looking most intently at the young pup who was now looking up with her eyes held wide open at the seriousness of the adults.

"Let us go to the Matriarch's bath and examine it for cleanliness then." All the adults got to their feet and walked, "Come with us, Arndís!" Aldúlfr ordered. "You are accountable for this task, so we will examine it in front of your eyes." The fatigued pup waddled along on her short legs that were still a bit chubby with newborn fat. The adults were silent as they made their way to the Matriarch's quarters and Arndís was worried, _What if it not clean enuf? Is any part not shinee?_

She walked into the bathing room to see the adults standing at the edge, looking at the pool and judging her work. Eventually, Sig'dan lay down on his stomach and glanced all about the large tub. He even ran his hand over the surface. Looking up at the child, he rolled over and assumed a sitting position. "Arndís, you have accomplished all the tasks that were set for you. You have accomplished them well. Honor is satisfied. What have you learned?"

Arndís stomach growled in reply. Sally made for her but was stopped by Aldúlfr's hand on her shoulder. The pup thought carefully before she spoke. "Must stop andknow who someone is before I bite them. Is bad pup that bite famlee." She looked hopefully at Sig'dan.

"Very good, Arndís. That is a pure learning. What else have you learned?"

Looking at the floor, she pondered awhile as the adults waited patiently. "Must ask for-give-ness from those I was bad to, and when I bad pup to my Ka, I bad pup to my K'var." Again she looked up hopefully, this time scraping her toe talons around on the floor in a random pattern as though there was sand to draw upon.

"True, that is another pure learning! What else?" Sig'dan looked in her eyes relentlessly.

Again, Arndís needed to think. This time she thought even longer before she spoke, trying to piece the words together correctly, "I can do things I thought I could not."

"Excellent and well said! That is an important learning, young one. You have done very well and I am pleased."

Arndís beamed under her Uncle's praise. Sally finally spoke up, "I have a question, Arndís. How did you clean the pool? I see that the walls are much taller than you."

"Use chair from sleeping room, Ka. Did not break it. With chair I stand on it and be tall."

Sally nodded her approval, "You HAVE done well, Arndís, and I am proud of you."

Arndís ventured a question in a small tense voice, "Ka, how is hand where I bite?" Sig'dan made to speak but was stopped by a signal from Sally.

"Arndís, I was injured. It hurt, it bled and bruised badly. Your uncle Sig'dan was able to heal it and it will be fine. You must promise to never bite me again."

"I promise, Ka! I promise!" she wailed and ran to her mother, decorum forgotten for the moment. Sally was ready to embrace her, but the child ran into the strong arm of Aldúlfr who had knelt down to her. "Arndís, are you hungry?"

"Sei, K'var, I am!"

"Come and eat." He scooped her up and carried her back to his table where her meal was waiting for her. Sitting on his lap she inhaled her meal until Sig'dan ordered her to slow down as he feared she would choke.

Her Bearer was upset at not being able to hold her child and then seeing the little one so famished. "Will you both excuse me?" she asked in her odd Blue Planet way, "I will retire to my chamber."

Sig'dan translated for the Consort who nodded his blessing, Sig'dan then spoke, "That is alright with us, Sal-lee. We will make sure she goes to bed after her meal."

The Matriarch lay sleeplessly on her bed unable to rid her mind of the day's events. In spite of becoming more indoctrinated to seeing things the Yautja way, her humanity had betrayed her when she wanted to hold her repentant daughter. The Consort had interfered and she knew the Hunters saw it as coddling. Then she realized that the day when the girls would leave to begin their training was nearly here. It was a day she had dreaded since before their birth, and now a part of her was actually relieved.

Melanie had entertained Signý far later than the pup usually stayed up, but she had napped so much during the past cycle that she was not tired at her regular bedtime. Finally, the pup had begun yawning and Mel had been able to lay her down for the night. It had been an exhausting turbulent day and Mel longed for some relaxation with human adults.

She had buzzed Sally, but received the automatic message that she had retired for the night. _Wonder if her hunk is with her? Hunk? Bullshit! My rapist is what I meant. Damn, I'm more stressed than I thought. I wish Sally weren't the only other human on this planet. There really isn't anyone else to talk to. Other than…other than Theron. He is much easier to be around than the other Hunters. I think it is because he looks a little more human. He's still alien, of course, but he's smaller than they are – not so muscle-bound. And his face is finer. Those bizarre mandibles are still there, but they are much smaller than the jaws and tusks some of those bad boys have! Jesus! I mean just look at the Consort. He's got damn bull horns on his face!_

_And Theron can speak English. Really good English in fact. And he's smart, and enjoyable to talk to. I wonder what he's doing right now. How could I run into him? If there were only Hunters to spend time with, he'd be my first choice._

_Where do Hunter's spend their hours? I must ask him sometime. _

In his quarters the Hunter Theron was finishing a translation task for the Matriarch. She had given him leave to work at the city library and in his quarters while finishing it. Now he was done and ready to give it to her. It was a very old literary work that she had found in the libraries catalog as translated by her computer. The Yaut it was written in was faint and a in a rather old but still readable dialect. The computers had translated it the best they could and then he had edited the translation. It had turned out to be an interesting record by an explorer to the Blue Planet who had compiled his adventures there. He had died on the alien world and shortly before his obviously anticipated death had sent his writings back to Yaut via a Chiva transport that had landed near one of the ceremonial pyramids built on the planet.

Theron looked forward to placing this translated copy of the book, The Journey of Sumarliði, into Sally's hands and seeing the expression on her face. He appreciated her eagerness to always learn more about his culture and how it had interacted with her own in times past. He also appreciated her love of language. All in all, he was pleased to be working as her translator – especially since it often brought him into contact with her companion, the dark-haired Melanie.

She was an interesting female in her own way, obviously disliking many of the Hunters – especially Sig'dan the Sire of her pup. Theron wondered what had happened between them to seed her aversion. But it was not just distaste for Hunters. There was genuine fear in her scent at times, including fear of the young Hunter who bedded the Matriarch whenever the Consort allowed. _Which is obviously more and more, I scented. What is going on there?_

_I could reasonably contact Sally to tell her that her book is finished. If she allowed me to deliver it this evening, perhaps Mel would be there and I could speak with her. I enjoy speaking with her, and I seem to be the only Hunter she is somewhat comfortable around. Why? She does intrigue me, but of course that is all. If I am able to offer her some companionship perhaps she will be happier here and grow to be more at ease around the other Hunters. That might please Sally._

Theron contacted the Matriarch's residence via his com and listened to the familiar voice which thanked him for his call and said that she was unavailable for the rest of the evening. Disappointed, he decided to go out, it was a clear warm night and a walk would be beneficial to his body. He might head over to the local c'ntlip establishment and have a drink.

The night air surrounded his body with the refreshing dip of temperature the desert city eventually experienced after the sun set. The stars were beginning to show their points of light and Yaut's moons were visible on the horizon. Theron walked along thinking very intently and completely unlike his highly disciplined character, not paying attention to where he was heading. Before long he came to his senses and realized that he was on the path to the Matriarch's residence. In fact, he could see her building from where he stood. All the windows were dark except for a single glowing square on a middle floor in the structure's corner. Theron wondered who was still up and what they were doing.

It would have been extremely rude to call upon Sally after knowing that she had retired for the night. So the Dor'an Hunter turned a corner and made his way to another part of the city in search of something that he couldn't quite identify.


	20. Painful Lessons

**Chapter 19: Painful Lessons**

_**It's the best thing in the world, the most challenging thing in the world, being a parent, and one of the **__**first lessons I learned was to ask for help. – Kerri Walsh**_

The morning breeze was brisk as the planet spun into what amounted to the autumnal cycle of this hemisphere of Yaut. The harvest of fruit and nuts had been gathered and stored, the orchards and fields tended and tidied for the season of rest. The cooler days made the pups' blood run as they conglomerated in a noisy mob to warm up before this cycle's races.

On nearby stone benches the Sires gathered, the most respected Elders of their Clans who served the Yautja as the decision-making body known as the High Council. Leather bags of trade coins jingled as they took their seats, clicking their bets to each other in the gambler's code.

Ulfrde grumbled to herself as she played with the small shining skull hanging by a cord at her neck. She hated the races as she always came in fifth or sixth, never in the lead. She was large for her age, with muscles that bulked out easily as she grew in stature. In the few moons' cycles that made up her life, her growth had been steady, unlike the spurts and stops of her sisters. Some of whom were also well muscled but none had yet attained her nimble strength. Ulfrde could jump into the air and turn completely around before landing back on her feet. Yet, in running she was clearly handicapped at least in her own mind. She never came in first or even a near winner. True, she wasn't the slowest but, for one who was already proud of her physicality, it was a bitter quaff.

Her Sire nodded a greeting of encouragement to her. Only he really knew her pain she thought, admiring him, and had told her not to worry about this. Other training in something called a 'spar' would excel her above the rest, he had reassured her. But the spar was off in some future cycle. The race was now, and her sisters who certainly would beat her today were already sure in their glory, while she already felt the full weight of disgrace from her lack of triumph.

At least her full-blood sister never won either. She glanced over at Arndís who was busy with her stretching forms. That would have been beyond her ability to bear. Her full sister was regally tall, taller even than she was. Where her muscles bulged, Arndís' muscles were not only strong but graceful. Every move she made bespoke of her balance and agility. Arndís could bend over backwards and place the back of her crown on the ground near her heels. Several of the pups had nearly suffered concussions trying to copy this before they gave up. Their Ka had been delighted and declared Arndís a natural yoga practitioner – whatever that was.

A growling voice called the young females to attention. They lined up behind the straight row of stones on the ground and waited for the signal to be given. A sharp crack split the air as a Hunter smashed two large hammer-like stones together. Sparks flew from the percussion, and the little Yautjas sprang into their running strides. With a bellowing chorus from the benches of beach-master Sires, they were off!

The demure thundering of a herd of miniature Huntresses made for the large statue of a raised arm, victorious Hunter in the distance. Once there, they would round it and head back. The first one to return across the line of stones was the winner. A small din of small taloned bare feet slapping and digging into the soil was accompanied by heavy huffing and grunts as the immature females fought each other for the lead. The dust rose behind them like a fog and formed a haze that they would have to return through once around the goal marker statue.

Signý ran near the leaders. She was slender and quick, at least for now, and enjoyed the effortless strength of her young body. The well-worn loincloth eased along with her strides. She sometimes wished that she could run without it, but it would not have been polite to expose her nudity in the open air as though it were a bath house. At least the top half of her body was unencumbered by cloth. At her young age, there was nothing to cover and little females ran around with only a lower cloth until they began to sexually mature.

Ulfrde ran in the middle of the pack alongside her full sister, her strong legs and clawed feet punishing the ground as it passed beneath her. Her breathing was beginning to come faster as her cells demanded more oxygen to feed upon. She looked ahead at the now seven pups that were running ahead of her, their long lean legs eating up the distance almost effortlessly. Knowing she would not be in the head of the pack, the small female settled glumly into coming in eighth.

The field rounded the curve with the leaders jostling for the inside position. Their dust trail coated Ulfrde's mouth as she breathed in particles of her planet. She squinted trying to keep it out of her eyes and went a little wide on the turn to avoid the worst of it. By now, even Arndís had bypassed her. She could exert herself more to at least win over her sister but that would mean eating her dust for at least half the way back – and for what? Was it worth it to cross the line of stones behind seven others? Ulfrde continued her settled pace and wondered what a spar could be.

The bloodline of Ulfr plodded comfortably across the finish line in a newly dismal ninth place watching a proud Elder lift up the winner for the roaring admiration of all. Then setting her down, he patted the top of his youngling's head and started collecting his winnings. She congratulated her sisters who had finished near her, exhorting them to try harder next time. They shook her shoulder in sisterhood, growling her praises.

"Ulfrde!" A low growl formed her name and the pup snapped to attention in front of her Sire, the Consort. "I am displeased with your effort."

She looked at his feet, huge in their leather and metal sandals with a great black talon as thick as one of her fingers ornamenting each toe. "I did not win, my K'var."

"That is not what has displeased me," he said firmly but gently.

Her face shot up to look at his, "W-w-what?"

"I would never be displeased with anyone who tried their utmost and did not win."

The young female began to turn a bit green in the face as she flushed with embarrassment. _I did not try. I was content to maintain my pace. I did not even try to beat Arndís! I have dishonored myself, and my K'var! _A huffing sob left her mouth as she stood, head bowed, before Aldúlfr who patiently gave her time to think.

"What is wrong, little one?" he asked in fond seriousness.

"I have dishonored you, my K'var!" Her wailing voice of true distress melted his heart, but he had to stay firm in order for her to learn.

"Is that the worst thing?" he asked.

"H'ko. I have also dishonored myself by not trying my hardest in the race."

"That is a pure learning, Ulfrde. Although winning is always desirable, the most important trait that you can exhibit is to always try your hardest – no matter what obstacles are in your path. More critical than dishonoring your Sire is dishonoring yourself. You are only known by what you do, my offspring. When we die we leave all our clothes, our weapons, our home – everything. The only thing we have as we stand before Centanu are our deeds."

"And now my action has been of one who does not try her hardest!" the youngling cried. "My K'var, what can I do?"

"You must try all the harder next time. All, including yourself, must be witness to your effort. You must always try your hardest – even if the outcome is certain death." Her eyes opened wide at his teaching and then suddenly a faraway look came to them.

"I will, Honorable Elder. I see the purity in your teaching. I will not disappoint you or myself again," she vowed. "My actions will replace these words in the next race."

Aldúlfr was pleased at her sudden insight. She was maturing fast and reminded him for an overwhelming moment of her biological Sire, Ulfr, not just physically but with some of her words. Ulfr had done great things for the Clan and the Consort expected as much from this little female – in her own way of course.

"You please me, little one." His mandibles raised in a smile which she returned, thrilled by his praise. "Run along with the others. Your Ka will have food and water for you." Her heart feeling much lighter, she scampered to her sisters and together they made for the house, their Sires walking with them as guardians.

Those who faced the High Council in judgment would not have recognized the soft expressions in the eyes of the Sires as they admired the little females, but the stern glares would return whenever they looked up and scanned around for danger. A swift suicide could have been accomplished by any who had emerged offering the slightest threat to the pups.

The still energized, rowdy bunch made their way into the receiving hall to be met by Mel and Sally. Mel caught her daughter's hands and danced with her as she exclaimed, "Ka, I finished third this time! I run faster every race!"

"Of course you do, my Sig-ney! I was a runner you know. I raced all the time," she said proudly. "You may have your Sire's looks, but you have my legs!"

Sally was hugged by Arndís and Ulfrde who told her of their race. Arndís, still up from her run, babbled forth, "I finished fourth, Ka! I might even win some day!"

"Yes, keep trying Arndís! I am very proud of you." She looked at Ulfrde, who said nothing but gave her Bearer another quick squeeze of affection. "And, you," Sally asked with a smile, "What of your race?"

"I learned much, Ka. And I will try harder next time."

"Excellent, Ulfrde! You are very smart! I am proud of you too."

The pups were escorted to the bathing room where they shucked their filthy loincloths and dived into the large tub. They swam around, having fun dunking each other under the warm water that cleaned them as they played. The water turned dark and then clear again as it recirculated and was cleansed. When the women saw the clear water they knew the pups were clean. At Sally's command, the little girls obediently marched out of the bath over to the dryers. In a few moments they were dry and donned clean clothes. After each one redressed, she scrambled to the communal table for a serving of tender chunks of raw meat, pieces of ripe fruit and flasks of water.

The aseigans refilled the flasks and kept the food coming until each young female's appetite had been satisfied. Yawns began around the table as the warm bath and full stomachs cast their spell. Mel excused the girls to go to their afternoon naps. She and Sally watched them artfully clamber down off their high chairs and by twos and threes go to their joint bedroom.

"They're getting so big, so fast," she exclaimed to Sally.

"They are. On Earth I think they'd only be three months old, and here they are walking, talking and learning. Don't blink, Mel. Their childhoods will be over soon, I fear. This is precious time we spend with them." Mel nodded in agreement as the servants came to clear the table.

The two friends were interrupted by the Consort and Sally's translator entering the room. "Sally, I would speak with you," Aldúlfr said through the translator, Theron, after returning together from settling the Consort's pup-race bets with the High Counsel Elders.

"Certainly my Elder. Mel would you mind tucking the girls in for their naps?" the Matriarch requested. "Would you care for a c'ntlip, Honorable Elder?" Never one to turn down an intoxicating beverage, the imposing Yautja nodded the affirmative and Sally signaled a servant to bring beverages. "And you, Theron, would you like a drink also?"

"Please," he replied, showing his best studied Earth manners.

When all drinks were in hand, even Sally had a small amount, Aldúlfr began, "I would like to call all the Blood Bonded together to speak about the pup's training. We and their Sires' will all be teaching, of course, but I would like to plan what would be the best way to begin the education. The pups are very small yet and not normally taken from their Bearers this early. They need discipline, but there is concern regarding taking them from you so soon."

Sally politely waited, digesting every word spoken by Theron as she looked the Consort directly in the eyes. There was a dilemma inherent in the pups' immediate need for strong rules, real learning challenges, and swift punishment along with their need for mothering. "There is wisdom in your words, my Consort. Yes, summon our bond family and we will discuss this. Would it be acceptable to invite them here and also serve a meal? Perhaps we could even have some entertainment?"

"That would be most hospitable, my mate. Would you allow me to arrange the entertainment? The translator can assist you in creating the meal."

"I'm certain that Theron will be most useful in helping me, and I would be pleased for you to arrange for our entertainment." Sally nodded to Aldúlfr.

"A request before we depart to begin working on this," Theron spoke the Consort's words in English without hesitation, even though the subject was highly personal. Hunters were never embarrassed talking about mating – whether it was their own or someone else's. "I desire your company that evening, after our guests leave. It has been too long since I requested you."

For the umpteenth time, Theron wondered about their sexual life. It was obvious to him that the Matriarch was attracted to Sig'dan, and not to the Consort. He remained politely baffled and certainly not stupid enough to question it.

Sally barely raised one eyebrow in some surprise. Aldúlfr had not asked for her since before the pups were born. He had also graciously allowed Sig'dan access to her without question. Not knowing why he desired time with her, but also not wanting to reveal any of his personal information to Theron she acquiesced. "I would be honored, Consort," she nodded to him.

Melanie had been politely waiting for Sally in another part of the apartment. Although she wondered what the three of them needed to talk about, she also knew that she had not been invited to the conversation. Sally, accompanied by her Translator, found Mel in the library and explained the meeting that was to take place along with the subject to be discussed. Melanie balked at the idea of her child being taken away from home so soon. "She is too small to leave!" she bristled. "I was raised with the discipline of a switch and I can spank her bottom raw if I need too, she proclaimed vehemently. "Sally, if you are my friend don't let them take her away, please!"

"I know it's a hard idea, Mel. But you have seen how our daring girls transform. You saw how they went after that rat-thing the other day. You saw the look on Ulfrde's face after she killed it – didn't you?"

"You know I did," Mel replied with a sign. "It was disgusting. I mean it was ok that she killed it. I don't want rats or whatever it was in the house. But when she decapitated it – that was just gross. Why in hell did she do that? And then scream about it afterwards?"

"That was her natural hunting instinct coming out, Mel. That's my point. The girls' natural instincts are emerging – the urges to hunt, to kill and to take trophies. That is what she did. She took its head for a trophy. The Consort showed her how to clean it and she now proudly wears it around her neck on a leather string. That's what they do Mel and no one had to teach it to her – why do you think we refer to them as 'Hunters'?"

"But she's so small. What if she gets hurt?"

"A Healer will attend them, Mel. Their Sires, the Consort and Theron will teach them – along with all their Blood Brothers – including us. We will still get to see them Mel – but they will have to earn the right to visit with us. A visit with us will be a reward.

"Don't you see? They will be stronger than we are very soon and we won't be able to discipline them. Without discipline, they will run wild and amount to nothing. They will turn BadBlood! And the punishment for that is often death. Is that what you want for our children?"

"Of course not! I just don't know how I'll not worry about her. And how will she take being separated from me?"

"All pups are eventually separated from their mothers, Mel. It's the Yautja way."

"Well, it sucks!" Mel got up in a hurry and left for the privacy of her quarters. Once there, she threw herself down on the bed and bitterly wept into her makeshift pillow, regretting the day she had gone for an early morning jog around the lake. She loved her child so much and yet the life she dreamed of for her and Signý was so unlike this one – and so much a fairy tale, she realized.

_How could I believe that I'd always have her? Could we somehow run away to Earth? But then what would she do? There'd be no acceptance of her from my family, and there'd be no man to be her lover or husband. She'll outlive me by a long shot and who'll be company for her after I'm gone? _

With great regret, Mel came to the conclusion that Sally was right in her assessment of the situation. But she vowed she'd be damned if she liked it. _I don't really know what Signý will accomplish in her life, all I know for sure is that she'll have children. _Mel shuddered at the thought of a grown Signý being lustily pawed by one of the giant High Elders. _I need to get back to Earth as soon as I can. I don't want to abandon Signý, but eventually she'll be on her own and will not need me anymore. Maybe we can still visit each other sometimes._

Melanie went to the sink and washed her face, then smoothed her long hair back with damp hands. Deciding that she looked presentable, she left her room and went over to the Matriarch's large garden. Here she could walk in protected isolation, as large slippery walls enclosed the lush green plantings decorated with statuary and pools of flowing water.

It was good to be alone with her thoughts, she decided, and walked the soft pathway planted with some mossy looking growth. Long stems waved as she strolled by, perfuming the air with the sweetness that advertised their pollen to the local insects. Several fluttered in, their six yellow gossamer wings glimmering in the sunlight. Mel watched them and longed for the orange and black Monarch butterflies in their fields of grass and Brown-eyed Susan's back at home.

She always felt more settled after a walk in the garden. Getting positioned comfortably on a bench she enjoyed the view and burble of a fountain made of two carved figures, Mel took out the book she had brought to read. It was a translation of the diary of a Yautja female. Not the sort of thing she usually went for, but Sally had urged her to read it, saying it had given her valuable insights into Yautja culture at a time when she was desperate for knowledge.

Opening the first page of the translated text via her reader, she began. As time went by her eyes widened from time to time and occasionally muttered things like, "so that's why they do that," or "I have wondered about that." Sometimes her eyes went wide open in surprise, other times she bit at her lower lip in concentration.

Theron saw Mel walk into the garden. Quickly he excused himself from the Matriarch's presence, she didn't need him for anything right now anyway, and he slipped into the garden unseen by Mel. He scented her thinly disguised sadness as she sat down and began to read some book. Her lips moved and indistinct ooman could be heard coming from her lips. He decided to let her know he was there.

Mel started a little as a large Hunter appeared out of the greenery beside her bench and then nodded politely in greeting to her. "Uh, Theron," she recognized him, "You surprised me. I didn't know you were out here too."

"It would have been impolite of me to not let you know I was in the vicinity," his fluid deep voice told her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I supposed you can detect my emotions by my scent, can't you?" She looked up at his face, so finely featured. He was a Greek god among Neanderthals, she decided.

"I can, but I don't want to pry into your affairs."

"No. Uh…no, it's alright. I mean, I don't mind." She paused, backing up her thoughts. "Sorry, Theron, this is a tough time for me. I appreciate that you care enough to ask. Would you like to sit down?" She patted the bench.

"No, if you are willing, I would prefer to walk. Would you walk with me?"

"Sure," she stood, "I've walked this garden so many times I think I know every plant by heart. I could probably find my way blindfolded." A small grin eased onto her face and the Hunter scented her growing ease around him.

"There is a large public garden not far from here. Have you ever been there?" the Hunter asked.

"There is? No, I haven't."

Theron wondered why she questioned the truthfulness of his statement, but decided it was some usage of the language he was not familiar with. For all his study, Theron had never been to the Blue Planet. His learning was all from teachers and books.

"I could escort you there, if you would like to see it," he asked, and wondered at the hopefulness in his own voice.

"I'd enjoy that."

"The pups are sleeping, would you care to go for a short visit right now?"

"Well, ok. I'll tell Sally we'll be leaving for a bit. I'm sure she won't mind."

The Matriarch had difficulty hiding her surprise when Melanie informed her that she'd be going out for a stroll with Theron. Perhaps her friend was becoming a little more comfortable around the Hunters after all. And a friendship between her and the translator – well that was to be encouraged! _Better Theron than her Sig'dan_, the continually jealous voice inside her piped up. And Sig'dan had seemed discouraged about his attempts to be friends with her anyway. Maybe this would put an end to it. _Or lead to a fight between them. Oh shit! Paya, I hope not! Sig'dan will get his ass handed to him. I don't want him hurt, but I do want him all to myself. Just imagine – me fighting Mel for him! _She laughed aloud at her thought, but then realized that in all likelihood the strong younger woman could win.

Theron followed Mel to the front door and then outside. He spoke to the colossal guards and then motioned for Melanie to follow him. "Won't the guards be escorting us?"

"You have no need of them," the translator answered, "I am with you."

"Uh, I don't mean to be rude or insult you, but, uh, we don't need the two big guys because you are here?"

"Yes, that is true. I am not insulted. You would not know that I am of the Dor'an Clan, or what that means," he spoke proudly.

"No. No, I wouldn't. And I don't understand why that makes it ok for me to just have only you to protect me out in public." Mel looked rather sternly at him, but then remembered her manners and lowered her eyes, "Not meaning to insult you of course. I'm just trying to understand."

"You told Sal-lee that we would go to this public garden, did you not?"

"I did."

"And she let you go with me, did she not?"

"She did. But…so what?"

Theron clicked humorously, "Do you think she would have allowed us to go if she did not consider you safe with me?"

"Well…no, but I thought the guards might go with us," Mel said, blushing a little.

"Who would guard the house entry then?"

"Oh. Well. I don't understand, but if Sally trusts you then I guess I should."

"Yes, Mel-an-ee, you should."

They reached the edge of the park and entered on one of the rustic stone pathways. Mel was lost in wonder at all the beautiful plantings which were populated by small insect-like creatures and what she thought were Yaut's equivalent of birds.

One of the 'birds' landed on the branch of a nearby plant and Mel stopped abruptly hardly daring to breathe as she studied it. It was about the size of an Earth sparrow, but with a strange fuzziness to its brown feathers. It looked back at her with bright bead-like eyes which judged her over a set of vivid yellow mandibles made of a waxy horn-like substance. She blinked, and it gave a squawk and fluttered away to safety.

"That was a Nor'nx," Theron explained. "They pick eat small fruits and insects, and are quite curious."

"On my planet we would call that…that Nor-nix a bird. Do all the animals here have mandibles?"

A low chuckle reached her ears. "Yes, most of the higher life forms do. Just as most creatures on your world have only an upper and a lower jaw."

Mel quit trying to find the flown bird and turned to her escort, "We must look pretty strange to you."

"Truthfully, you do. But I have accustomed myself to your appearance, as have many of my kind. Do you find us strange?"

"Yea. I do. But, as Sally says, the mandibles kinda grow on you after a while."

Theron translated her words in his head and then lifted his upper tusks in a smile. "Let me show you more of this park." He took her farther along the path until they came to a large dark pond. Mel's eyes could not pierce its murky depths as she peered over the edge hoping to see some sort of fish.

"Does anything live in that?"

"Yes, there are small water animals there. They are harmless and many other types of 'birds' feed on them. I thought if we were quiet we might see some. Please have a seat." He motioned to a stone bench shaded by tall plants about a quarter of the way around the pond.

Feeling the fresh air enliven her, Mel broke into a tiny jog to reach the bench. The strong Yaut sun felt good on her body. She hadn't run or even jogged in such a long time, she thought. Not since…suddenly the memory of that morning run to the pond reappeared vividly. That morning where the feeling that she was not alone had made her stop and wonder if she was losing her mind. She had called out, and the invisible voice had stopped her heart. He had appeared to her and she had known what he was, and what he wanted. She had been captured. Captured and drugged and…

The touch of strong warm hands upon her shoulders made Mel freeze, she whirled, still half in her remembered day, to see the large Hunter behind her and involuntarily screamed, then threw a surprisingly strong punch right into unsuspecting Theron's face. He jerked back just after her fist connected with his upper right mandible and involuntarily moved to defend himself.

Theron had watched the small female break into a jog ahead of him. She was a very physical being and enjoyed using her body, he decided. He followed her at a brisk walk and nearly ran into her when she abruptly stopped before reaching the bench. He put his hands out to take gentle hold on her shoulders and was shocked when she whirled out of his grasp. Then he saw horror overtake her face as she beheld him and then shrieked loud enough to cause him discomfort and punched him in the face. It did not break, but would leave a visible bruise. Instinctively he crouched in a defensive position, opened his face wide and bellowed a challenge back. Then he lowered his head to face – nothing. The frightened female had taken off, running around the pond as fast as she could. _What the pauk?_

Theron decided not to chase her. He followed her with concerned eyes along the water's edge. The female ran on around about half the pond before slowing to a walk. She stopped, breathing heavily and looked across the water at him. He looked back but did not stare, trying to convey that he was no threat. With deliberation, she turned and headed back in his direction. He waited patiently while she approached him, making no move towards her, just relaxing and watching her closely from the corner of one eye.

When she finally reached him, she held out one hand and placed it gingerly on his forearm. "Theron, I'm so sorry. I was remembering something - something awful. And when you came up behind me and touched me, it just really scared me and, oh I'm so sorry I hit you! But then your roar was horrible! I just took off."

"There is nothing to apologize for. You are wise to save yourself from something that you fear so much."

"Why did you roar, Theron? Did you yell at me because I hit you?"

"In a way. I instinctively took your hit to be a challenge. My display to you was one of challenge to a fight. I…I am sorry I frightened you." They walked on in silence, the outing being rather spoiled for Mel.

Finally she asked, "Would you mind if we went back now? I'm sure the pups are awake and Sally could use my help."

"We will return. Perhaps we can come here another time."

Mel just nodded and they went back the way they had come. Theron was greatly disappointed that he could not show her more of the park and wondered what she was so fearful of. It seemed to him that her fear had been triggered not when he touched her, but when she turned and saw him. He mentally kicked himself for challenging her as though she were a Hunter. Where was his judgment? She was now quiet and introspective, her joy at the park's creatures gone and buried beneath memories of soul-chilling fear.

The Hunter had scented her panic, but something more also – repugnance and the terror of helplessness. He had scented oomans many long cycles ago when they had been brought to his Clan as aseigan. They were afraid too, but also carried the stink of beings who had no hope as they helplessly were doled out to various families in order to serve them for the rest of their lives.

What Hunter had made Mel feel helpless? His jaws set in anger at the thought of anyone bringing distress to this female. _If I find out who did this to her, he will feel my wrath, _Theron decided. _But there is only one Hunter who has bred her, to my knowledge – Sig'dan! _

Melanie wondered if the Hunter was angry with her fright as he guided her back to Sally's residence. He said nothing more the entire trip, and she swore she felt ripples of tension coming from his body as he quietly walked beside her, ever watchful for any threat. Her initial worry of only a single Yautja defending her in public had disappeared as she watched him through repeated sideways glances. _He must be very accomplished. I need to learn about his Clan, and what makes them so special._

Theron accompanied her back to Sally and the pups, he then inquired of the Matriarch if she would have further need of him. "Yes, I need to plan a feast after the pups go to bed this evening and need your guidance and counsel, along with Sig'dan."

Theron bowed to her. I will be in the library then until the pups are in bed, if you will permit, Honorable Sally."

"No problem, Theron. Go ahead and enjoy your reading there."

"I will research the current food stores and begin a plan," he nodded.

"Great! I'll see you later then." He gave a careful nod to Mel and then went to Sally's library.

"What the hell happened between you two?" Sally whispered to Mel, not wanting the aseigan or pups to hear.

"Oh nothing," Mel replied with false cheer.

"Nothing, my ass! He was absolutely glum and couldn't wait to get away by himself. What did you do to him?"

"Oh, it was a complete disaster. I'll tell you later in private," she whispered back to Sally. With a wink, the Matriarch went to attend the now awakened pups that, with renewed energy, were literally climbing the walls and then seeing which of them had the best balance when walking across the beam work.

The aseigan had scattered out across the floor and were looking up, arms wide, ready to catch a pup should it fall. The Matriarch's voice filled the room, commanding, "Girls! Get down from there, right now!"

"But Ka!" several voices whined in their growling way, "we are having fun! The servants will catch any of us who are so stupid as to fall."

"Must I repeat a command? I order you to come down right NOW!"

The unusual sternness in her voice had them scrambling down the wall, slipping a bit now and then, but catching themselves with their claws. The wall had a lovely non-symmetrical stripe pattern to it now.

"Assemble!" Sally barked, and the pups formed a group before her, each one looking at the floor. Mel had never seen her so upset and waited for the explanation.

"Do you know what would have happened to you if you had fallen and hit the floor?" She paced back and forth in front of them. Not a pup volunteered to answer her query. "Do you think that you would have simply jumped back up and continued to play? Do you?"

She tapped her wrist com and summoned Theron, who appeared immediately noting the seriousness of the situation. "Yes, Honorable Matriarch."

"My daughters think they are immortal. They were playing on the beams up there," she pointed to the huge stone forms some thirty Earth feet above them. "Can you quickly catch a small creature and give them a demonstration they will not forget?"

Theron nodded and ran outside. The girls stayed standing in their group, afraid to speak to each other. They all waited for Theron to return. It was not long until the Hunter returned with a pale four-legged creature. Its jaws and legs were tied and it was slung around his neck while carried effortlessly upon his strong shoulders.

"Very good," the Matriarch stated emotionlessly, "Do what you must."

With a soft growl, the Hunter turned and nimbly scrabbled up the stone wall, the living creature helplessly carried along with him. At the top he walked out on a beam and used his knife to slice through the beast's leg bonds. He held the struggling thing by the scruff of the neck and looked down to see all the small upturned faces held in rapt attention. He dared not look at Melanie. The Matriarch simply stared at her pups.

A collective gasp went up when he released his grip and the creature tumbled down the thirty feet to the stone below. Squealing sounded from its still bound mouth and the four limbs flailed the air in desperation as it plunged. The pups backed away as it fell, mouths and mandibles agape in disbelief as they followed the plummet. The animal hit the floor with a resounding smack, bounced a bit and then was perfectly still.

"Examine it!" Sally ordered the pups. In eager curiosity they cautiously went forward and stood over the dead body. One pup lifted the head and muttered, "The neck is broken." Another bent to feel the carcass and pronounced, "All the legs are broken too." They all stared down at the lifeless animal, realizing what could have happened to them.

One pup dared the silence, "But Ka, the servants would have caught us."

Sally nearly growled. "What would have happened to the servant who missed you? Have you concerned yourself with the aseigan's fate? How do you think your Sire would have reacted toward the servant if you had died because he didn't catch you?"

Sally was shaking by now, in fear and anger. What she had ordered was horrible to her own mind, but it also had given the pups a memory never to be forgotten. Her eyes flashed at Theron, who nodded his agreement to her, giving her strength.

"You will go to your beds and consider this lesson until I call for you."

The pups filed out in silence.

Sally sat down after they left saying, "I need a drink." Theron went to the cabinet and returned with a flask of c'ntlip which she downed in several swallows.

"Sally!" Mel cautioned, "Can you drink all of that?"

"Right now I don't care. Dammit, they could have killed themselves!"

Theron braved an interjection, "Honorable Sally, pups do have to take risks, but it would have been such a waste to die over simple entertainment, and your point about the servants was excellent."

"Well, I'm so glad I have your approval," came a bit sarcastically from Sally's mouth.

Theron bowed again, "I will return to the library until I am needed." Mel watched his every move until he went around the corner.

"Well, Mel, what do YOU think?" Sally was feeling quite loose from the alcohol by now.

"The girls had to learn that what they were doing was dangerous, I agree."

"But?" Sally retorted.

"But that was…barbaric, Sally. And that's all I have to say about it." Mel turned and left, leaving her friend to nurse the few drops left in the bottom of the glass.


	21. The Voice of the Flesh

**Chapter 20: Voice of the Flesh**

_**Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to. -**__**Oscar Wilde**_

Myn'dill's keen eyes examined the tissue sample from the test subject at high magnification. No regrowth was evident at the ends of the severed and then healed nerve cells which replicated the Elder Arbitrator's state. With a nearly human sigh, he went on to place the next sample into the viewer. The Healer had been at this for many cycles now, nearly three moons in fact, and felt no closer to a solution for the Honorable Elder Arbitrator Aldúlfr . But Myn'dill was patient, he would continue his search.

The powerful magnification viewer focused on the new sample and the Healer moved the aperture to close in on the nerve ends. Earlier discouragement nearly colored his perception of immediate reality and as he moved to automatically reject the cells, his hand stopped and he craned his neck at the picture. There, at the ends of the sliced nerves were the clear signs of new growth. Fresh youthful cells protruded past the point of the healed cut as the nerve finally sought out the old pathway to regrow its previously abandoned end and for the first time Myn'dill was hopeful.

With renewed vigor he examined the other samples, finding no viable results. Then he refocused all of his efforts on continued work with the single formula that had produced the desired effect. With Paya's help, he might soon contact the Consort with good news.

If the formula did work, and Aldúlfr became able to perform again, Myn'dill wondered what Sally's reaction would be. He would have to caution the Elder to proceed slowly with her. He wondered how to allow the Elder practice and release before he mounted the fragile ooman. Could he borrow one of the altered Dor'an for a time? Surely the Elder would balk at the very idea, but what if the Elder knew it would give him the desperately needed release which would then allow him control when it came time to mate with Sally? Myn'dill mulled over his options as he set up the different conditions for further experimenting with the formula that had successfully stimulated previously halted nerve cell growth.

He completed his work and hurriedly closed down the lab for the day. His old shipmate and Hunt Brother, Ab'bi, was on the planet between hunts, and he was looking forward to hearing of his adventures over meat and c'ntlip. Ab'bi had also invited Sig'dan to join them. Myn'dill had agreed to meet the young Hunter at the Matriarch's residence and they would travel by hovercraft to the spaceport and Ab'bi's ship. Usually a returning Hunter would frequent the taverns and places of entertainment but Ab'bi, anxious to show off his new ship and stocked trophy room, had invited them aboard.

* * *

Sig'dan returned from the cycle's work as a Healer to his quarters. He showered and changed into a clean loincloth and donned his everyday armor. A Hunter never knew who was frequenting the spaceport and the seedy neighborhood surrounding it, so it paid to be prepared. After packing his body with several lethal blades, he made confidently for Sally's place, ready to enjoy hearing about the pups adventures this cycle before he went with Myn'dill to Ab'bi's ship.

It had been a long time since he had seen his brother's old second. He looked forward to inspecting his trophy room and newly acquired hunt transport. It would feel good to have deck plating under his feet again and Sig'dan realized that he longed to join a Hunt. His obligations to the pups had kept him planet bound since their birth and he wondered if he would have a chance to go trophy-taking after they entered formal schooling._ The future of our bloodlines is more important than any hunting I wish to do, _he reminded himself.

Nodding recognition to the entrance guards, Sig'dan entered the apartment. No one was in the reception hall and he hit his com to signal Sally that he was here. When she did not answer he began searching. In the dining hall he found her seated at one of the tables, her upper body laying on the tabletop with her head supported by her outstretched arm as her other hand idly spun an empty flask.

"Sal-lee?" She did not indicate she had heard him. The Hunter moved closer to her, "Sal-lee, are you alright?" The drinking flask spun out of control, off the table and onto the floor, splintering into a thousand sparkling pieces. Sally's hand groped the table surface for it and then she raised herself up to mutter, "Oh, Sig-dan, it's you."

The musty scent of sorrow mixed with perhaps a bit too much alcohol accosted his scent organ as the Hunter softly huffed the air around him. "Sal-lee, how much c'ntlip did you drink?" he asked kneeling down beside her.

Her bleary face turned again to him, "More than I usually have. I'm pretty comfortable but okay, I think." Sig'dan knotted his significant brow.

"Sal-lee, I'd feel better if you'd let me run a scan."

"Sure, knock yourself out."

"What?"

"Don't worry – run your scan." The matriarch slowly got up and stumbled a bit as the room spun around.

"Sally, I'm going to take you to your sleeping room." He picked her up like a small pup and carried her to her bed, his eyes filled with concern. Then he quickly retrieved the house medical kit and ran a scanner over her. The read-out signal led that the level of intoxicant in her bloodstream was high, but not dangerously so. He poured a mug of water for her, lifted her up and coaxed her to drink a few sips.

"Sig-dan, you take such care of me! I love you." His mandibles opened at her words, remembering the times he had been over-intoxicated. She was going to hurt like that proverbial place the Yautja called 'hel' when she awakened. "I love you, too," he replied, "Sleep, Sal-lee, sleep." His com signaled, letting him know Myn'dill had arrived. He moved away from her bedside and spoke, "Healer, I will be with you soon. I am tending to Sal-lee."

"Has she injured herself?" Myn'dill's voice growled back, "or is 'tend' your word for mating?"

A huff of good humor left Sig'dan. "H'ko. She has consumed too large an amount of c'ntlip. I checked her blood. She will be alright after a night's sleep, although she will lie to Paya in the morning." The clicking of Yautja chuckling came back over his com.

"I remember those days, young Healer. Oh, Great Paya, if you will take away my pain I will never taste c'ntlip again!" He mocked his youth by making a higher pitch with his voice.

Sally interrupted the conversation when she recognized the voice coming through the com, "Hi Myn-dill! How are ya?" Without waiting for a reply, she spoke to Sig-dan," Mel hates me now. She's pissed because of what I taught our kids."

"What did you teach them?" he asked curiously, "And why did she urinate because of it?"

No! No! I tried to teach them that they are mortal. We caught them playing on the rafters," she pointed to the ceiling. "So I got Theron to throw an animal off the beams to show them what would happen if they fell. Those girls were counting on the servants to catch them if they lost their balance! Anyway, Mel was disgusted by the whole thing."

"It was a needed lesson, Sal-lee. Mel-an-ee does not understand. She is not as…not as Yautja as you are."

"Go I'm finally going native, huh?" Then she drifted off to sleep in the middle of again telling Sig'dan that she loved him. He quietly stole from her room and joined Myn'dill in the receiving hall. They both exchanged hearty shoulder shakes. "How is she?" asked the Elder Healer.

"She will recover, Myn'dill. I know you are her personal Healer, would you like to examine her?"

"I would not desire to insult your skills, young Healer."

"And I would find relief if your assessment of her agreed with mine, Honorable Teacher, and I know that it would ease your mind to examine her." The young Healer led Myn'dill to Sally's room. She was on her side, facing away from them and snoring rather loudly.

"Does she have a history of breathing problems?" Sig'dan asked the Elder Healer.

"No, my young, former student - who is now a Healer in his own right. Remember, some oomans make this sound while sleeping, especially when there is a large amount of intoxicant in their system. It is normal."

"I have never heard her make that sound before! It is…very disturbing."

The two Healers left the Matriarch's chamber having satisfied themselves that Myn'dill's examination results were the same as Sig'dan's. Their minds' eased over Sally's condition, they proceeded to meet with Ab'bi and enjoy the true camaraderie of Hunt Brothers who had stalked prey together, taken trophies and fought side-by-side.

* * *

Sleep came fitfully to Melanie that night as her mind flitted about. The image of the creature falling from the ceiling to its death, and the lesson it had taught the pups weighed heavy on her mind. _How horrible – the poor thing. Why did an innocent animal have to pay with its life to teach our daughters about the danger of what they were doing? _

'_Our daughters'. _

_They seem more alien than ever now to me and yet I love Signý with all my heart, don't I? Or do I just love the human part of her that I see – or think I see. How much of her humanity will she lose as she matures? Especially under their training? I'm not sure I can bear this. _

_I felt so stupid today when Theron came up behind me. I've never experienced a flashback before, but it felt like I was really there, reliving it all over again. And then of course he had to go and out get that animal and kill it. Would he go jump off a cliff if she ordered him to do it? Sally has been a good friend, but her Matriarch thing gets to be a bit too much at times. Does she think she is a real Matriarch? What will she try next? Is she ready to grab a Hunter by the locks and shake him till he behaves? _

In the middle of the night she finally found sleep but was soon awakened to Signý's cries. The hair stood up on the back of her neck as she listened and then hurried to the pup's side. The small female was in her bed thrashing about and crying out, "No, No! Somebody catch me! Ka! Ka! Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeee !"

"Honey, honey, wake up its okay, Ka's here," Mel soothed the child from her nightmare and into the comforting arms of her Bearer. "It's okay, Signý, shhhhhhh." She rocked her body as she patted the back of her daughter as she clung to her mother still emitting an occasional sob. When the trembling had ceased Mel asked, "What were you dreaming?"

"Ka, I was up on the ceiling beams and that big Hunter came and he threw me down! I was falling and there was no one to catch me! Would he do that, Ka?"

"No, no, honey. The big Hunter is named Theron and he cares very much about all of you pups. He would never harm you. Never." Mentally Mel growled at the image of Theron in her mind. If he'd not cast that creature down, her daughter would not be having this very scary nightmare. _Well, he is going to have to make this up to Signý and convince her that he is her friend_, Mel decided. _The asshole!_

Signý was comforted enough so that she could be tucked back under her fur, and Mel went back to her bed. Snuggling down she felt more alone than when she'd come out of her sedistim trance back on the Hunt ship and found out she was pregnant and on her way to an alien world. She also felt betrayed by Sally in a way she'd not expected. In her determination to provide the best life possible for her girls – it seemed that Sally was becoming more Yautja. Mel now felt like the sole representative of the human race on the face of Yaut. _And that damned Hunter needs to talk with Signý and let her know that he will never hurt her! _

With determination guiding her hand, and the fierceness of maternal love making her bolder than she'd ever been before, Melanie tapped the code into her com to connect her with Theron. It was the middle of the night – the sleep cycle for most Hunters, but Mel didn't care. She was burning to give him a piece of her mind and if he was sleeping – well that was just too damn bad.

The com signaled in Theron's quarters and roused him immediately. The Dor'an had trained himself to sleep lightly and awaken easily, immediately at the ready to face a threat. The com's hum was met by a wide-eyed Hunter crouched on the floor next to the bed he had erupted from. He realized there was no threat and answered his com, "Sei?"

"Theron, I hope this is you."

"Mel-an-ee," he recognized her voice, "is something wrong?"

"It sure is! I have things to say to you – right now!"

Theron was immediately pleased that she had called, and rather charmed by her apparent anger as well as her previous smack to his face. Without thinking it through, he replied, "Good! I will be with you very soon." He hung up and was aware that his pulse had quickened. Quickly donning a Hunter's small amount of clothing plus some armor and a few weapons, he dashed out the door and jogged the streets to Melanie's.

Along the way he kept one sharp steely eye out for threats, but his mental eye was turned inward in argument with himself. _Hunter of the Clan, you are placing temptation needlessly in your path. What is your true interest in this ooman female? This pitiful, weak, prey species. Do you intend to disgrace yourself and your Bloodline?_

_No! My intentions are pure. This ooman female is a friend to the Matriarch, and her thoughts appear to be distressed. If I can assist her, then I assist my Matriarch. That is my only intent in this situation!_

The internal argument continued as Theron approached Mel's apartment which was right next to the Matriarch's spacious dwelling. Although Melanie's was smaller, it was still very luxurious by the planet's standards – especially to a Dor'an whose clan prided itself on a plain unembellished lifestyle. The Hunter announced himself at the front door com and was allowed entrance.

Melanie was seated by a glowing fireplace, lit to keep away the chill of night. The glow flickered across her tension filled body and face while it cast a large wavering shadow on the stone wall. Her eyes flared at the Hunter as he came into the room, politely nodding a greeting to her. Normally he would have ventured a shoulder shake to a Blood Bound relation, but he could already sense and huff her sharply sour anger.

"Translator," she began, deliberately foregoing his name, "Please have a seat." She gestured toward the empty Yautja-sized chair across the fire from her. They would be separated by the flames as they danced and licked at the heated space between the two. He sat somewhat uncomfortably on the large cushioned chair.

"I am here at your request," Theron began. His mellow voice, deep in tone with little growl to it, tried to oil the air with politeness as Mel's brown eyes flashed again.

"My daughter had a horrible nightmare this evening – about YOU Hunter. Do you know what a nightmare is?" Her voice demanded his close attention to her words. He watched her throat and jaw move as she spoke, and saw the suppleness of her lips forming every word.

Jerked to attention by her demand, he answered, "I believe that a nightmare is a dream about something unpleasant – is that correct?"

"Unpleasant?" Mel spat the word at him, "More like horrifying! She woke up screaming for me, Hunter! Screaming because she dreamt that YOU were after her and going to throw her to her death off the ceiling beams!" Her furious words were thrown and she waited for his reaction with sparks in her eyes.

Theron carefully considered his instincts and thoughts. She was speaking to him in the tone one would use to issue a challenge. His body tensed in anticipation of the idea, but his intellect told him there was no physical spar here. The ooman was simply upset, yet also brave in her verbal attack and demands of him. But what Hunter worth his Clan mark would permit an ooman to speak to him in such a way? His upbringing struggled with the current knowledge that the present Matriarch and her friend were both from the Blue Planet, both prey females. By law and tradition, the Matriarch and her household were to be obeyed without question. He quickly shoved the unbidden image of Mel with her neck neatly snapped behind the curtain of his new reality.

"Honorable female," he began, "I believe that your daughter incorporated today's events into her dream in an original way. I have no control over what she dreams."

"But YOU need to apologize to her or something! She's terrified now, dammit!'

"She must learn then, that I am honorable and can be trusted. I will speak with her after she awakens, if you will permit."

"Oh, I inisist!" Mel's anger was increasing as they spoke, much to Theron's confusion. He was meeting her demands, so why was she getting more upset?

"I shall then, Mel-an-ee. May I ask you something?"

"I'm not in much of a mood to have a conversation right now, maybe you should go."

Gently, Theron spoke, "As we have talked, I have agreed to everything you have asked of me. Yet, you have grown more and more angry. What are you angry about?"

"I'm mad because Signý is going to have to leave me! Oh, I know it's in her best interests, but I'm going to worry about her every second she is gone from me. I'm so upset I wish that she'd never been born."

"You cannot protect her from her future." Theron looked at her and then wrinkled his large brow in concern, "Truly you do not regret her birth – do you?"

"I love her with all my heart," Mel began to speak through tears. "She is the only thing that makes up for what I went through."

"You had a difficult time bearing her?"

Melanie laughed in a slightly manic way. "No. My body rejected her and the Healer cut her from my body. She finished growing in an artificial womb, just like Sally's children were grown.

"I knew she would look like her father and I never thought I could love something so…so…so very ugly. But I do! Her face and those mandibles are the dearest and most beautiful face in the world to me!"

"Then what did you go through?" Theron was unwilling to let the upsetting matter drop. He was glad that she loved her child, but wanted to pursue why she was so unhappy.

"Oh, surely you must know – you know how the Hunters capture us – and the rest of it."

"In purity, I do not, Mel-an-ee. My Clan does not mate with ooman females. We only mate with our kind."

Melanee's expressive face betrayed her surprise. "You don't? Your Yautja females died, didn't they?"

"Yes, they did. Still, we will not corrupt our genes by mixing them with any other species – that is what my Elder's teach. I have learned this all my life, until I came here to Yaut. Recently I have learned that not all is as it seems. Your aggression has calmed, yet I still detect anger and perhaps disappointment," the Hunter noted.

"Well since you don't know let me educate you a little bit, Theron." She used his name for the first time. "I was hunted, then captured in order to become pregnant with Signý. I did not volunteer for this Theron – I was taken against my will! I stayed on Earth, but my own family rejected me and tried to harm my unborn child. So I left everything I know behind! I ran away and found a ship and was brought here. Do you understand how violated and traumatized I still feel? I mean Sally is my only friend, and she is becoming more like one of you every day!"

"Sig'dan is the Sire, is he not?" Theron's body filled with tension.

"He is, and he is a good father to her."

"Yet, he is the one who hunted you. He is the one who forced you to mate against your will." An unusual growl punctuated Theron's speech now and his mandibles began to flare along with his crown.

"Well, duh! Yea it was Sig-dan," she snapped back at him.

"Then he has violated one of our basic laws, and he must stand before the Council! Better yet, he must stand before me!" The sentence was ended with a rolling deep growl so animalistic that Mel's eyes widened in sudden understanding.

"No, Theron! You must not! What Sig-dan did is not illegal to these Hunters. They freely take us as they please. Sig-dan has been very apologetic to me, and has been very kind to me. He is going to take me back home when Signý is old enough for me to leave."

"You do not wish me to make him pay for what he has done to you?"

Before the pup's birth, Mel might have taken Theron up on his offer, but now she was horrified at the very idea. "NO! No more violence, please! Wasn't it enough for you to kill that poor helpless creature?"

_Poor helpless creature? _Theron's mandibles waved in momentary confusion. "That creature needed to be sacrificed in order for your daughter, and the others, to learn. They were playing a dangerous game which could have ended with one of them being killed or worse, maimed. As females, their value is incalculable."

Now Mel was confused, "How is maiming worse than dying?"

"For us, it is worse to be disabled then to pass on to the next life. To be disabled means to be on the lowest rungs of society, to be unable to hunt or reproduce."

"For all your medical and technical advancement, your society is barbaric," she pronounced. "On Earth, we recognize the value in ALL people. Even disabled people make many significant contributions to society. "

Theron was about to announce that Earth willingly permitted damage to its population's gene bank when he remembered his own mixed heritage. Long taught that the Dor'an were the purest among the Clans of Hunters, it had come as a shock to learn that they were the most already mixed with the Earthling gene pool. The other Clans held them at bay, so the Dor'an had inventively begun the story that they held themselves apart to keep their lines pure and over time, no other tale was told. What had been invented became the 'truth'.

"It is possible," Theron said softly, "that Yaut could learn many things from the Blue Planet. I do not know. I am not a wise Elder, I am simply Theron. And I wish to be your friend."

"Why in hell do you want to be my friend?" Mel challenged.

"You seem unsure of your place with us, perhaps. You are often unhappy, my senses tell me. You are the Matriarch's only ooman friend. So it would be good if you were…more settled here and more sure of yourself." Theron tried to be delicate in his explanation as he did not wish to offend the female.

"I'm not so sure how human Sally is anymore. I would certainly not have asked you to kill that animal in front of the kids."

"It is for the benefit of the children that Sally becomes more like us in her thinking – do you not see this?"

"I guess I do, but I don't have to like it. I feel so…alone so much of the time. My daughter is my only happiness here, and she is about to leave me. I think I am ready to go back to Earth when she goes to the training camp."

"But she will visit you here at your home on occasion!"

"And what will I do in between visits? I have no purpose here."

Theron struggled to find an answer for her, "Mel, you could spend time with me. I would try and help you to find purpose here."

Mel looked at him a long time. His mannerisms, voice, body and even his face were so much more human to her than the other Hunters. With him it would be easy to forget that she was an outsider, that he was an alien, that they were different. _But wouldn't that be living a lie? He IS an alien, and I'm just as alien to him. I'll never fit in here and it will never feel like home. I belong back home, finishing school and the life I was meant to have._

"No, Theron. Your offer of help is…appreciated, but I want to go home – back to Earth. I'll tell Sig-dan and Sally as soon as I can. Thanks for coming over. "

Theron found himself outside walking towards his quarters, _if she is determined to not like Yaut, there is little I can do to change her mind. I hope that the Matriarch will not miss her company. _He trudged on past the city green space that he had taken the female to enjoy. _In purity, I will miss her, and on the life of my Bearer, I do not know why. She is annoying, emotional, and unable to settle herself or find new goals and compared to our illustrious females of old, she is as weak as a newborn. _Theron rounded the park and crossed the deserted street which would be bustling with Hunters at daybreak.

Still thinking, he climbed the stairs to his quarters which were very nice by his standards, being a guest of the Consort and the High Council. While opening the door, he recalled her eyes, burning into his own with indignation and demanding he speak to reassure her pup. _I simply admire her bravery, even though it is stupid…Is it not? She knows that if I laid a claw upon her I would be dragged before a wrathful Matriarch. Still her aggression is agreeable. _He imagined her smacking his face again as she had in the park. Suddenly, the clouds of questioning parted and all was revealed as Theron felt the warm rush of circulation to his groin and scented his own mating musk hanging heavily in the night air. He made a dead stop, huffing at the familiarly spiced scent, profoundly disturbed at his obvious inclination to bestiality. With a shimmering shake of his locks in disgust, he headed for bed to try and sleep for what was left of the night. Tomorrow, after the meeting of the Blood Bond, he would request permission to relinquish his assignment and go back to his Clan. With the proper purging of his mind and body by the Dor'an lifestyle, all this forbidden unsavoriness would be forgotten.

* * *

All those who had participated in the Blood Bond ritual were gathered at the Matriarch's residence for an evening of discussion, dining and entertainment. Large tables had been brought in to the reception Hall and placed on three side of a square. The open side was where the entertainers would enter and please all from the center of a large circle that had been artfully sketched in purest white upon the dark stone floor.

Sally had created low centerpieces of small polished skulls, interlaced with red and yellow blooms and a scattering of leaves. Here and there, a long bone artfully peaked out from the flora. Aldúlfr studied the centerpieces from his seat on Sally's right side. Turning to her, he pointed to one and grunted, "Gud, Sal-lee, gud."

"I'm so glad that you appreciate them," she smiled at him, and Sig'dan, seated on her left side, translated her words for his Sire." The Consort nodded.

Elsewhere around the room, Myn'dill was engaged in conversation with Yin and Yang speculating on what the Matriarch had ordered prepared for the feast, while Theron sat moodily by Myn'dill's side, not joining in. Instead he watched the Healer, feigning his engagement in the conversation as he carefully watched Melanie across the room from one corner of an eye.

Melanie sat to the right of the Consort, trying to smile at the proceedings, but the dull look in her eyes spoke her true feelings about the evening. The centerpieces in particular had shocked her, and she supposed that only a Hunter would appreciate bones sticking out of a flower arrangement. Her imagination wandered off as it speculated a city-wide flower delivery service that had to glean boneyards during the night for its arrangements. Perhaps an added touch could be fur strip bows?

The aseigan entered carrying flasks of c'ntlip for all and served the diners. Mel gratefully clasped the stem of her flask and was about to drink from it when Sally's voice rang out, followed by the growls of Sig'dan as he translated for her for the evening. She raised her voice in a toast accompanied by her uplifted arm holding her glass which reminded Mel of the Statue of Liberty. "To Honor, and the Blessings of Paya and Cetanu!"

After Sig'dan spoke her words in Yautja, the entire table stood, raising their drinks, and rumbled out the toast. All then drank down the burning liquid, with the exception of the two human females who took only a sip of theirs. Following the leadership of the Matriarch, the evening's toasting began.

The flasks were repeatedly refilled as toast after toast was given as the aseigan served great platters of raw and roasted flesh, and many kinds of fruit from the city's harvest stores. Sally began to feel like she was a Protestant at a Catholic wedding – stand up, listen to everyone say something, sit down, then do it again. Sig'dan abandoned trying to keep up with the translation as the guests quickly stood in succession and toasted the meal. Salutes went forth to the Matriarch, the Consort, Sig'dan, the Healer, Theron the translator and even to the two stalwart guards.

It was Theron who stood to finally toast Melanie. Raising his glass he looked her straight in the eyes, "Paya's blessing upon you and your daughter, Signý. May your years and your children be many."

Melanie just looked at him as he spoke it again in Yaut, then all turned to look at Melanie and raised their drinks to salute her. "Sei!" added Sig'dan as he nodded his enthusiasm for the words to the young woman. Mel blushed a little at all the eyes looking at her and then nodded her acceptance of the toast. Theron again raised his glass to her and drank in a personal salutation and show of appreciation for her.

That highly intimate gesture brought Sig'dan to his feet. Growling, he challenged, "Do you purely honor this female, or does the c'ntlip cause emotions to float to the surface of your brain?" His jaws spread wide in boldness as his mandibles expanded to their full stretch.

Sally watched from her seat, noting that his jaw reach had widened. _He has grown – physically. He begins to look like his brother, my Ulfr. He will not win against Theron, but the challenge is his to make. I knew this would happen eventually. Luckily Myn'dill is here to mend him. _The Matriarch caught herself. It was not long ago that such a fight would have made her scream at Theron to back off, for fear of Sig'dan being hurt. _I am becoming more like them, _she observed.

Itching for an excuse to fight the Hunter who had forced mating upon Melanie, Theron got to his feet with all deliberation and met Sig'dan at the center of the circle on the floor. Snarling at the young Hunter, he shoved the broad shoulder and watched it wobble with great satisfaction. "This won't take long, defiler of females!" he whispered to Sig'dan.

With a roar the young Healer returned the shoulder shove to Theron's narrower shoulder and felt the smallness of it under his hand. "Your unworthy bones will snap in my hands," he bellowed back, wondering how the Dor'an warrior knew of his taking of Melanie. His face grew green with a mixture of anger and seldom felt self-consciousness.

With tandem roars, the Hunters sprang into sparring position, circling warily inside the painted boundary as the Consort chuckled in Yautja, "I did not plan for the entertainment to begin so early."

Sally nodded to Myn'dill, alerting him to be on standby. The two hunters continued circling, taunting each other with insults. "It is well that Myn'dill is here to bind your wounds, young Healer."

"Your beaten carcass will not appeal to any females when I am finished with you!"

It was Sig'dan who was driven to the point of anger where he leaped forward to make the first hit, his fist whistling past Theron's quick dodge. A blur of gray delivered the following blow to Sig'dan's face and he grimaced as a sharp crack revealed his broken lower left mandible.

The pain only helped the young Hunter to focus his rage as he coolly continued the Yautja dance of death. Theron feigned a move twice and then retreated back to the edge, watching his opponent's reaction. Sig'dan watched him move forward again, played a feint of his own and then caught the Dor'an unexpectedly with a foot to the sensitive knee. Theron went down on the injured joint briefly, but that was all that Sig'dan needed to rush forward and attempt to get his huge hands on the swift warrior. Faster than nearly anyone could see, Theron whirled to his feet, turning a mid-air dervish as he came around and caught Sig'dan with a blow to the neck from behind.

Caught off-guard by the swiftness of the movement, and unable to anticipate where Theron would strike next, the now off-balance Hunter scrambled for his position. His clawing was met by another lightning blow to the side of his face and Sig'dan went down, out cold.

The Dor'an warrior nodded to unconscious Sig'dan in acceptance of his forfeit and turned to look at Melanie. A blank seat was all that met his eyes. As the fight began, unable to stomach the violence between the two Hunters, she had fled.

The Consort jumped the table, going up to give Theron a shoulder shake and congratulate him on his victory. Sally gave him a polite nod and managed to stay seated as the Healer went to Sig'dan. He called for Yin and Yang to take the out-cold Hunter to a nearby sleeping chamber where he could be treated.

Sally was tense, but slightly comforted when Aldúlfr stroked her face saying, "Sig'dan gud. I train Sig'dan. He gud!"

"Thank you for training him, Aldúlfr ," she said with more emotion than she had intended to reveal. Aldúlfr cocked his head at her, "Aldúlfr see Sal-lee's…what is word? Aldúlfr see Sal-lee…heart. No fear. Sig'dan gud fight! Sig'dan learn from Aldúlfr," he jerked a thumb at his chest, "Aldúlfr very very gud!"

Sally couldn't help but emit a chuckle at his boasting. Her eyes glimmered with good humor as they locked with his, "Aldúlfr care, Sal-lee." He reached out and stroked her face again, murmuring, "No fear."

"I'm much less afraid when you are around, dear Consort," she confided to him. "I am reminded of your great son Ulfr when I am around you, of his protection and care for me. When I am with you, I understand his greatness." The Consort regarded her with cocked head, not certain he had understood her, but able to interpret the gist of what she had intended.

Theron approached the Matriarch and gave a bow, "Honorable Matriarch, I ask permission to leave this feast and look for Mel-an-nee."

Sally hadn't realized that her friend had left. Looking around the room, and not seeing the woman, she agreed to Theron's request. "Yes, please find her and see if she will return to our dinner. We still have business to discuss regarding our pups. She should hear what is said, as well as contribute her thoughts to the discussion."

Theron left the room in haste, following Mel's fresh scent, he tracked her as readily as any Earth hound. Jogging through the hallways and up a set of stairs, he trailed her to the Matriarch's library, where she stood looking out an open window onto the well-spaced night- time lights of the city.

She heard him enter, and turned to see who interrupted her desire for solitude. Seeing the wiry gray Hunter, she turned her back to him and stared out at the sparsely lit dwellings. She did not understand what he and Sig'dan had fought about, but knew it had something to do with her. _Had Theron won?_ She did not voice her thoughts, but continued to look out the window. The well-known deeply mellow voice broke the silence.

"Why did you leave?" he asked, in nearly a whisper.

"Why did you fight?" she questioned.

"Sig'dan doubted the sincerity of my toast to you."

Mel turned from the window with raised eyebrows forming bunched lines on her forehead, which was too young to bear lasting marks from such expressions. "You got in a fight over THAT?"

Theron's mandibles tightened, and then relaxed. "There was more to it. And I must admit that I have been looking for a reason to punish him."

"For what he did to me?"

"Yes. It was a great dishonor to you, and needed avenging. I cannot undo what has been done, but I have corrected him soundly for it."

"Is he alive?"

Theron hissed, "Yes. If he ever dishonors a female again, I will make sure he is not!"

"Well, it seems I have a champion, whether I want one or not." Mel's stormy eyes flashed at him, and the warmth in his loins began again. Theron was a little confused by her words, but stayed silent, waiting for her to say more. "Uh, thank you, I guess. Before Signý was born I would have stayed and cheered you on."

"What has changed, Mel-an-nee?" The Hunter drew closer to her, the slight Yautja's height still towering above the Earth woman.

"I have understood more, I guess. The Hunters are desperate to reproduce, and the females are gone – leaving only us to bear them children. Believe me, I don't condone my rape! But I have watched how Sig'dan loves Sally, and what a good father he is to Signý."

"He loves Sally? Then why does he so emotionally defend you?"

"Sally thinks he feels guilty for what he did, and that he needs my forgiveness. I'm not so sure. He's been trying to get my…my affection ever since we came here."

"That may be true. Have you given forgiveness to him?"

"No, and I don't know if I can or will – to tell you the truth."

Theron's caramel voice melted into her soul, "Do you still wish to return to your planet?"

"Yes, more than anything – but I have to wait for Signý to get at least a little older. Theron, would you take me? Sig'dan has said that he will, but…I would feel more comfortable with you. Will you?"

Theron thought for a moment, "When you are given permission to leave, I will ask the Matriarch's permission to escort you to your Earth, Mel. But know this – I regret your choice to go. You leave the Matriarch alone, without the companionship of her own kind."

"Well, she becomes more Yautja every day!" was Mel's quick reply, masking her disappointment. "I'm going to my room now. I know that the rest of you are discussing the girl's training. I'll go with whatever the rest of you decide. Sally can fill me in later. Good night, Theron."

He nodded to Melanie and watched her walk away, then, not bothering to huff the change in her scent, he returned to the meal.

Sally was calling the assemblage to order, Myn'dill had returned with Sig'dan who sported a bandage around his broken facial appendage. Theron entered and, bowing to the Matriarch, informed her that Mel would not be attending. He simply ignored Sig'dan.

"Then let us begin the discussion of how best to get the pups into training, without causing trauma by removing them from their Bearers' too quickly," Sally responded. "I ask for Myn'dill to speak."

So the evening went on with each voicing their ideas, and some in disagreement as to how best handle the situation. The c'ntlip continued for the Hunters, with Sally declining anymore. It intoxicated her and gave her a headache, but when taken slowly over time by the Hunters – it soothed their inclination to fight and helped them hammer out a compromise. Even the two who had fought were speaking to each other by evening's end. Although Sig'dan's speech came with some difficulty due to the break in his face.

It was decided that the pups would go to the training camp immediately. They would stay overnight and then return to their Bearers the next cycle. Over time, their visits to camp would become longer, and returning to visit the earth women would become a privilege only given when earned by accomplishment.

In the training camp, the pups would learn how to hunt, and be given exercises to make them stronger. They would learn survival skills, as well as how to defend themselves and their Clan. They would learn more about history and reverence for the gods. They would become truly desirable Yautja females.

Myn'dill had turned to Sally at that point, "Matriarch, there is something that we all ask you to teach them from all your study. We ask you to teach them how to be female – how to choose, lure, and then submit to a Hunter. Can you do this?"

Sally had known deep in her soul that this moment would be coming. She arose with all her female dignity, "Honorable Hunters, I accept this responsibility, both for my daughters and for you and the future of Yaut. I will teach our females in the ways of the Yautja females before them. My body may be human, but my heart is Yautja."

The group rose, roaring in appreciation of her speech, while Theron wondered how in the entirety of Yaut, a tiny ooman female could possibly teach young Yautja females how to behave sexually. _But she has mated with Hunters before, three of them in fact,_ he thought to himself. He examined her more closely and began to see the scars of mating marks on her shoulders where the formal fabric parted now and then. He viewed her with greater appreciation and respect. _All the Hunters in this room, with perhaps the exception of Sig'dan, I admire and respect. And all of them have mated with oomans. Are the Dor'an in error with our view of this? Is it possible that in some way, oomans are honorable enough to contribute their bloodline to us? What am I thinking? They already have! _He wryly remembered his own heritage. _And we have contributed to theirs. Truly could either one of us exist in our present form if not for the other?_


	22. Polarity

**Chapter 21: Polarity**

"_**And the light shineth in the darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not." James 1:5 KJV Bible**_

"_**You can't have a light without a dark to stick it in." Arlo Guthrie**_

Two human women, their faces masked with false cheerfulness, stood watching the group of excited little female pups trying to contain themselves while trooping together down the street away from home, surrounded by their huge guardians. 'The 'girls' as their Bearers' called them, were leaving home for the very first time. They had been called together by the Consort who had addressed them most seriously.

"Females of Yaut, you are now old enough to begin formal lessons. Your Bearers have taken excellent care of you and you have learned their teachings well. Now it is time for you to leave your home for a cycle's light and dark, and begin to learn the skills you need to become adults."

The girls all fidgeted fitfully as he began to speak, excited and yet wary about being away from home and their Ka for the first time. "Pay attention!" he commanded them, "this is a serious endeavor. You must pay full attention to what your trainers tell you. Your continued survival and passage into Clanhood depend on it! Do you understand?"

The pups all nodded solemnly. Few of them had ever heard him speak so firmly and their feet had suddenly become rooted to the stones where they stood as his deep growls claimed their concentration.

"Do any of you have questions?" the Consort growled and Arndís ventured a nod. "Sei, my offspring. You are given permission to ask it."

"Who are our trainers besides you, my Honorable Elder?"

"Your trainers will differ over time, they will from the group of all of your Sires, Honorable Myn'dill and Honorable Theron. Other noble Hunters will accompany us as guardians. They take their orders from me and are from the ranks of the best Arbitrators and the Elite High Council Guard."

The girls' eyes grew wide at the mention of Arbitrators. They knew little about them, but had scented the tension and respect that all had whenever the name was mentioned. Aldúlfr realized that some of the pups were experiencing fear at his statement. "Pups, it is good to have respect for Arbitrators, but there is no need to fear them – none of you are BadBloods," he chuckle-clicked to the room. "I do not believe that any of you have ever been told that I am an Arbitrator," he stated proudly.

Several small mandibles gaped open and a few petite jaws dropped. Unable to contain herself, Ulfrde gasped, "You are?" And then, realizing her breach of manners, she clapped her hands over her mouth, shutting all her jaws.

"I am, little one," he replied gently, "and not just any Arbitrator as you will learn in time."

The procession went through the metropolis and many Hunters stopped in their tracks to watch. It had been long since pups had been seen in the city, so the little females created quite a stir as many grown Yautja gawked at them. The pups' heads swiveled about as though possessed as they tried to take in everything at once.

In another part of the city, a special training facility had been built for them with guidance from the Matriarch Sally. They were herded through the entrance and most of the guards fanned out to surround the structure, some at the street level and others from the tops of nearby buildings. The striking image of the fearsome warriors and hunters of Yaut silhouetted against the sky as they guarded the priceless females made no impression on the pups. They were intent on being allowed to explore the new building.

Instead, they were called by Aldúlfr to stay together in the middle of a great central hall whose floor sported white circles and whose walls boasted scores of weapons. The pups had never seen anything like it and paid little attention to the deep growl ordering them to gather. Their eyes were bright and wide as they chatted and gawked.

All the pups jumped as one when the booming earthquake of a voice resounded in the Hall, "PUPS! YOU WILL COME TO THE CENTER AND STAND IN FRONT OF ME!" The girls' chatter immediately fell silent and they stared at Aldúlfr for only a moment before scrambling to position in front of him. The last pup scurried, as she joined the group. Only to be promptly singled out by the stern glare and pointing talon of the Elder Arbitrator, "YOU! THE LAST ONE TO OBEY MY COMMAND!"

The little pup looked up guiltily at him. It was Signý, trembling under his scrutiny. "SIGNÝ," he shouted, "STAND FORTH!" Her Sire, Sig'dan, had to restrain himself from coming to her rescue. She had to learn and the time for her to learn was now – caught in the act of sluggish obedience. The young Healer trusted his Sire, but felt for his shaken daughter who would now be made an example of for the entire group.

"I KNOW THAT THIS PUP CAN RUN FASTER THAN SHE DID IN RESPONSE TO MY COMMAND," he continued with raised voice - both for the effect and so that all could plainly hear. Then lowering his tone he asked, "What is your reason for being last to obey?"

Signý just stared at the dark, worn claws emerging from the toes of her Sire and found no words to say. "I am waiting for your answer, Signý! I will not wait much longer!"

Seized with fear of punishment, she could not immediately reply. Finally, she stuttered out her answer, "Honorable ForeSire, I...I…I."

"Signý, here in this training Hall, you will call me 'trainer', never your Sire, or ForeSire. Do you understand?"

"Sei, Honorable Fo…Trainer."

"I still await your answer!"

"Honorable Trainer," she began again, drawing designs on the floor with her left big toe claw. "I did not hurry to you because I wanted to look around."

Indulging her artistic toe, Aldúlfr continued, "So, you are saying that earlier you did not listen to my words asking you to pay attention, and telling you that this is a serious endeavor?"

The small pup dared a look up at her ForeSire, he was magnificently impressive in full armor which shown as black as night on his calves, forearms and shoulders. He stared back at her, not even blinking.

"Honorable Trainer, I did hear you speak those words. I…I was excited about entering the Training Hall." The Elder listened and waited for her to think it through. She continued, "I was excited and more interested in exploring then doing what you had ordered, Honorable Trainer." The small pup's head lowered in shame.

"And what then have you learned from this?"

"I have learned that when you give a command, you expect me to follow it immediately – no matter how excited I am."

"A pure learning," he said in a gentler voice. "It does not matter what you are feeling, pups – excitement, fear, curiosity – it could be anything. When a superior gives a command on a mission – you are required to obey immediately!" Then looking down upon the entire group, he added, "All of you have an opportunity to learn from Signý's lesson. Retain this learning, or the consequences will be very unpleasant." The Airbitrator looked at all the somber upturned faces and carefully controlled his scent. He did not want them to realize just how entertained he was by their sobriety.

He went on to lecture the students about Yautja honor, how it was the foundation of society and the best guiding principle for all decisions. He relished illustrating his points with several historical tales of famous Hunters who had made sacrifices and wise choices with only honor to guide them. Throughout his diatribe, the pups remained fixed to their spots, eyes upon him, listening intently.

They were then given a short break to attend to bathroom needs, and later all were given a small flask of water. They obediently drank it down and then stood waiting for their next Trainer. The translator Theron assumed the position mid-room, saying, "Follow me outside where we will run."

A faint chittering went up as the girls excitedly anticipated the opportunity to stretch their legs. Once outside, their Trainer turned to them again, "This is not a race. This is an exercise to observe your strength and endurance. You will run with me until you can run no more. Then you will slow to a walk. Hunters will be running with us, others will come from behind and walk with any student they find. Let us begin!" The gray Yautja set a sluggish jog for the pace with the little females strung out behind him in small groups of two or three. The speed of the run, while excruciatingly slow for Hunters, was a fair test for the sets of little dark legs pumping furiously to keep up. Some of the pups furiously tried to stay even with Theron, but others wisely set their own pace and quickly fell back from the leaders.

Ulfrde was thrilled to be able to run in something other than a race. She fell in easily behind several of her sisters who closely trailed Theron, with Arndís at her side. The full sisters did not speak, saving the air for their muscles, but each gained comfort from the presence of the other. Little Signý followed them in a group with some of the other sisters. She could run faster but she saved her strength, determined to do well and make her K'var as proud of her as when she had been the first of her siblings to climb.

The Arbitrators fanned out from the group and ran well out in front, to the sides and behind, scouting for possible threats. The High Council guards loped easily right along beside the little running females, unreadable masked faces scanning for danger.

Ulfrde admired how gracefully the towering Hunters ran, even when burdened with armor. She longed for the day when she could wear armor and join the Hunt. Then she would decorate herself with all her trophies. Her mind wandered as she ran, considering the adornments she could fashion and wear around her neck, wrists, ankles and in her locks. She pictured herself much taller with long black tendrils hanging over her shoulders – each sporting carved bone or metal rings, and cunningly inlayed vertebrae. Tossing her head to hear them clink against each other, she nearly collided with another of her sisters who waved her mandibles threateningly.

Beside her, tall Arndís matched her stride for stride. Her even breathing was settled and unstrained. She watched the reverse side of the gray Hunter in front of the pack as he ran with a fluid motion, never faltering even when the ground changed to rock. His silver-banded locks bounced with his footfalls, the rings gleaming in the sunlight. _He is well-muscled but thin_, she decided, really very thin compared to the others. Her K'var was substantially taller and larger than the running Trainer. Arndís wondered if she would ever have the opportunity study them standing side-by-side. The differences between them fascinated her.

The front-running group was beginning to feel the strain of their position. A few of them dropped back behind Ulfrde and Arndís, but the strong and fleet held steady in first place. Ulfrde had to remind herself that this was not a race for position, but rather a test of fortitude and will.

They ran through a small copse of tall plants, then down a gentle embankment out onto a wide plain. Theron kept his languid pace steady, not wanting to overtax the pups by going too fast. He heard the little pants for air behind him and the patter of much smaller feet hitting the ground. As long as he continued to hear the small runners behind him, he would continue to leisurely jog.

From up ahead he heard the aggressive reverberations of a native Yautja predator as they breached the edge of its territory. Alarm coursed through his veins like a draught of the blue healing serum, bringing him to full red alert. Abruptly the sound ended and was followed by the roaring victory trumpets of Hunters. Alarm soothed, the strong taloned feet ran on. The Dor'an trainer confident that a native predator had been dispatched as Aldúlfr's Arbitrators did their job.

The pups had nearly stopped running when the growls started, but after hearing Theron click to them, their pace settled again as they trusted his reassurance that they should stay on his heels.

Arndís was doing well, still steady in her stride and breathing easily. She had never run this far before and rejoiced in the power of her young body. Ulfrde had dropped behind her and was breathing heavily in an effort to keep up. Feeling her pain, Arndís called back to her, "Don't try to stay up with me! More important is that you endure!" Ulfrde grunted in return and her pants grew fainter as she fell back farther and farther.

Ulfrde knew her sister was right, the Trainer had plainly stated the goals before they started. Still, it burned her pride to let her sister get ahead of her. She kept dropping back behind other fleeter siblings until she was even with Signý. Ulfrde was surprised as she had thought Signý up front with the leaders. "Why slow?" she gasped at her Bloodline sister.

"Save strength," she huffed back.

They ran in tandem as the group spread out into a thin straggling line, and the end of that line was beginning to falter. One by one, the other pups began to slow and then drop down to a walk. As they did so, a Hunter spotted the exhausted youngling and walked with them, giving them encouragement to catch their breath and praising their effort.

Ulfrde's ragged breathing outpaced the uneven thuds of her feet. She was on her last legs and she knew her run was nearly over. Still, she grimly plopped one foot in front of the other, willing herself to move, trying to ignore the screams of fatigue coming from her legs, dusty dry mouth and burning lungs. She saw the form of Signý pulling in front of her as the slighter female also pushed on with her last reserves.

As she plodded on, she slowly passed pup after pup, each walking with the accompaniment of a Hunter. Every cell within her legs was growling at her to stop, but she refused to give in. Her legs felt boneless, her feet seemed heavy like bendable stone. Time ceased to exist for the little female as she slogged on through waves of exhaustion, passing more walking pups but unable to notice them as her focus was only on running and continuing to breath.

Finally, she put forth her right leg for another stride and felt her body come to a complete unexpected halt. Puzzled, she tried again and found her body unable to move forward. "It is time to stop, my offspring." The gentle rumble of her Sire floated down to her from up above as his giant hand placed on the front of her chest kept her from going forward. She crumpled as her legs melted into the ground.

Suddenly, a Healer was hovering overhead and a scanner waved before her face. "She has exhausted her reserves. In so small a pup, this is potentially dangerous. I will administer emergency fluids. Hold her up, Honorable Elder." Ulfrde found the ground quickly becoming far away as she was heaved, fairly gently, and held while a large needle was inserted in her neck. A tiny whimper escaped her mouth.

"You did well, Ulfrde," said Aldúlfr. "I am proud of you. This will make you feel better." His praise distracted her until the Healer was finished. She did feel better immediately, "K'var, you can put me down now. I feel much better."

"H'ko, small one," Aldúlfr said fondly, "you were the last one to stop running, and you are more tired than you realize. I will carry you to the Training Hall and bring you food and water. You must eat to replenish your energy store. Then, you must bathe in a warm bath and have your legs rubbed."

"Will I be able to train tomorrow?" the pup asked worriedly.

"Sei, small one. You will be well by tomorrow."

She gratefully relaxed into Aldúlfr's giant arms, feeling the pleasure of having proven herself. She had at last won a type of race. The young one did not sense the concern coming from her Sire. When she had recovered he would speak with her. She was blessed with a great gift – the gift of directing her desires to overcome the needs of her body. This blessing was often a boon, enabling Hunters to accomplish mighty feats of endurance. Yet, it was also something to be respected. If he had not stopped the pup when he did, she would have run straight into the arms of Cetanu and her Blood Sire. The Consort was not yet ready give up such a promising pup. He would guide her training carefully, ensuring that she made the most of her gift without killing herself.

The Elder Arbitrator had just completed tending to the weary Ulfrde, who was tucked beneath a warm fur and sleeping, when Myn'dill entered, the scent of unusual worry accompanying him. "What is it my Brother," he asked the Healer in hushed rumbles. Myn'dill jerked his head in the direction of the doorway and Aldúlfr followed him to the corridor. After quietly closing the pup's door, he commented humorously, "I have not scented such fretting since I was blessed by my Bearer before setting out on my Chiva. What is wrong?"

"A message from your Arbitrators', Honorable Elder. I took the liberty of receiving the communication because it was flagged as a potential danger. I hope you are not offended."

"H'ko, I am not. Now what is the problem?" he asked impatiently.

"Reports have been correlated showing that many young Hunters have gone missing over the past moon. They have left no communication, they had no known agenda and many were about to go off planet on hunts."

"That is strange. Do you think there is an unsanctioned hunt on Yaut that is drawing them?"

"It may be. The last time this happened we lost many UnBlooded who were lured by the temptation of prematurely difficult trophies. Yaut's fierce creatures are not forgiving of those who hunt them. But there is one thing they all have in common, Brother. They are all hybrids."

"That is not so strange. Most UnBloods these days are."

"True, and I would not be concerned if it were not for one fact – we do not know for certain what became of the band of hybrid BadBloods that killed guards and fled with a Hunt transport to the Blue Planet."

"That ship went down, did it not?"

"Sei, it did. And no trace of the group has been found. However, odd reports have surfaced."

"Such as?"

"A primitive population reporting that the Gods have recently visited them, but were seeking a way back to the heavens and left."

A grim look formed in Aldúlfr's eyes, followed by tense twitching of his mandibles. Quickly he worked his com to signal the Hall of Arbitrators in the city. "This is Honorable Elite Elder Arbitrator Aldúlfr," he growled to his wrist. "Find any reports of uncleared or questionable craft landings during the past two moons. I need this data immediately. Send another band of High Council Guards to this training camp. Send two bands to guard the Matriarch – NOW! Inform the High Council of my orders and that I will speak to them next cycle when we bring the pups back to the city. Summon your Brothers and begin to analyze the craft landing reports. I will join you after I speak with the High Council."

Turning to Myn'dill, he grasped the Healer's shoulder and gave it the shake of camaraderie. "Your concerns are most valid. We cannot be lax when we do not know what is happening."

* * *

Waves of contractions hardened the ballooned abdomen of the woman as she again bore down, trying to push the huge infant out of her body. Her hard labor had been going on since before dawn, and it was now mid-day. The large crown pressed against her pelvic bones and hormonally loosened ligaments while she struggled upon the gathered heap of leaves spread with a skin that served as a bed. The bed was misshapen from her thrashing and soiled with stains from her blood and feces. It was time to try something drastic – before the Hunters decided to sacrifice the female to save the child.

"Hold her down – her arms, upper body, hips and legs!" commanded Duncan to the others. Quickly the group of pregnant women took hold of the exhausted birthing mother, immobilizing her. To the nearby Healer, who had been of little help, the officer tersely said, "Give me your knife." He looked at her with blankness in his eyes. Pointing to his blade she then held out her hand. With a glimmer of understanding, he passed it to her.

She only hoped it was somewhat clean as she incised the perineum so the monster head would pass through without tearing. "Now, you two! Place your hands at the top of the baby. When I say push, you will push – HARD! Got it?" They nodded mutely. Duncan crawled up to the woman's head; the laboring mother-to-be was nearly incoherent with exhaustion and pain. "Honey, this is gonna hurt like hell. But you gotta do what I ask – ok?" The eyelids fluttered and a weak, "Okay" came forth.

"Honey, when I yell 'push' you gotta push with all your might – just this one last time. We are gonna help you and we'll get this baby out. Trust me?" The woman just closed her eyes and sighed.

Duncan got back into position to grasp the infant as it emerged and assist it in leaving the birth canal. Muttering again, she prayed that this would work. The only other option was to cut the womb open which would most certainly kill the mother in this primitive situation. Wiping the sweat from her palms, she waited – watching for the next contraction. The huge bulge again hardened and she yelled, "Here it is! PUSH!" Four palms on the top of the womb pressed the child toward the birth opening as Duncan continued yelling, "PUSH DAMMIT! PUSH! PUSH! PUSH!"

A sharp crack resounded as the broken woman's agony tore through Duncan's heart. The infant crowned and then the head was out – face up. Clearing mucous away from the tiny mouth, Duncan yelled, "KEEP PUSHING! PUSH THIS BASTARD OUT!" She supported the head and applied a little traction as the shoulders emerged and then the rest, as the slippery wet pup's body slid out onto the bed. It did not breathe or make a motion as Duncan wondered what the Hunters would do to her for killing their child.

The officer felt the rough hand grab her shoulder and rudely push her away from the limp infant. The Healer scooped up the flaccid pup and dangled it upside down by one leg while his other hand gave a substantial thump of his palm to the small back. Tiny mandibles spasmed as the pup coughed up a wad of thick mucus, took its first breath and began the growling howl that passed for a Yautja babe's cry. Passing the pup back to Duncan, the Healer growled, "Take it" and went to attend the now unconscious Bearer.

The huge Hunter ran a scanner over her, digesting its readings. Her pubic bones had separated and there was a fracture in the part of the spine that dangled to a point below her hipbones. He did not think either injury was fatal, but being a novice at human healing, he did not know. It would probably be best to give her something for it, he decided.

Retrieving his medical kit, he fanned out the blades of the vessel for preparing the medication. The Healer poured several substances together, measuring for his patient's size the best he could and then heated the mixture with a small field burner. When it was blue and glowing, he drew it up in the metal syringe.

Duncan placed the newborn in the woman's arms and comforted her as she regained awareness and moaned. "It's okay, you're alright," she reassured the woman who was still contracting as the birth remnants passed. The Healer growled to clear his path to the ooman female who now seemed in distress. Grabbing her roughly by the back of the neck, he tilted her head and swiftly injected the medication into the prominent vein that bulged out at him. She went absolutely white when the needle stabbed into her, and then her mouth opened, emitting a scream that astounded even the calloused Healer before she fainted dead away, her baby lying on her chest.

"What the hell did you do to her?" shrieked Duncan at him, fearing that he had euthanized her. She ran at the doctor of death only to receive a sharp slap across her face from the horny hard back of his hand, putting her back on the ground near the makeshift bed on her ass. Because she was pregnant, he would not do real damage to her. Instead he widened his ugly mandibles, bent down and roared in her face, blowing his hot, stomach-cooked meat breath right up her unwilling nostrils. She involuntarily drew back from his assault, her face scrunching up in disgust. He stood up, clicking his enjoyment of her discomfort. Duncan wiped the blood from her scraped face and vowed once more to kill each and every one of them.

Duncan crawled over to retrieve the baby alien from his comatose mother. He rooted at Duncan as she held the obvious male, trying to keep him warm with her body. Finally she got up and carried the child as she sought out the Leader. She found him with the others, gnawing on some raw meat. With the pup in her arms, the courageous woman approached, daring to interrupt the Hunters while they ate.

"Hey! Yes, pay attention here!" The Leader kept on devouring the still warm flesh, but several others stopped mid-chew and growled at the presumptive ooman who began again, "This baby is cold! He needs a blanket to keep him warm. Do you hear me…you…you idiots!"

The Leader's yellow eyes regarded his now very pregnant mate. She looked healthy enough, and strong enough to carry the sizeable pup in addition to her own abdominal burden. The pup was fine, what could she be agitated about? He grunted to over to oblivious Kylfa to see to the situation.

"You are the one called, Kylfa," Duncan addressed the hunter who came up and towered over her.

"Sei. What you want?"

"This baby is cold. He needs something to cover his body. Do you have anything?"

Kylfa wiggled one mandible, then went over to the Leader and grunted a few syllables. The Leader nodded and rumbled back the best he could with his mouth full of meat. Kylfa returned to the female, "We get what you need after we eat. Hold the pup on your skin. He will be warm. Understand?" One of his eye ridges seemed to rise as he awaited her reply.

Duncan muttered and stalked off, "Morons, they don't even care about this horrible ugly baby." She unbuttoned her shirt and held the infant to her skin, cuddling it close. "You poor hideous child," she cooed, "who could ever love such a face? You may be innocent, little thing, but your father is an interstellar prick and if I have my way – you will be an orphan."

She waited with the pup, watching the Hunters complete their meal. A few of them left the camp, presumably to hunt for something to wrap the baby in. Duncan's own unborn child had decided to begin kicking, and she was quickly sent to the ground, wincing in pain as the pup played bongos on her bladder with its heels. She cradled the baby in her arms as she settled into her pain and waited for the robust musician to stop. _I wonder what would happen if I hit it? _She wondered. _Perhaps in-womb spankings would be an appropriate way to deal with these beings that seem to understand only violence._

Tentatively, she raised a hand to the place where one foot kept up a punching action against her abdomen. Kick out, pull in, kick out, pull in, she watched the rhythmic movement of her side. Readying for action, she gave the next protrusion a resounding smack that left her skin red. Her side bulged out again and was met with an open hand. Lesson learned the pup quit kicking its mother – at least in that spot. It revolved in the confines of its capsule, as yet oblivious to the world outside.

In the meantime, the newborn's mother had awakened to find that her pain had left. She got to her feet and found her child within Duncan's opened makeshift top, her arms wrapped around it. Wordlessly, the pup was handed to its birth mother who opened her top to feed it. Her swollen breasts leaked milk, staining the animal hide, joining the blood and mud still adhering to it.

Smooth mandibles opened slightly as the pup nudged the breast and searched for the nipple. His mother guided it to him whereupon he enthusiastically grasped the warm nub with fangless mouth and closed his mandibles around her. The teat was surrounded 'til emptied by the eager gulping pup. "Thanks for watching him," she said to Duncan.

"No problem," replied the officer. "Some of them are off getting you a skin or something to wrap him. I think he was cold, so I was trying to keep him warm. Those bastards didn't even care he was cold! Maybe they'll run into some big game hunters on safari out here. I think a fifty caliber would do the trick." Duncan laughed sourly. "Do you feel okay?"

"I'm surprisingly good. Don't know what was in that battery acid he injected me with, but it seems to have fixed everything. I'm good ta go, I guess."

"You rest all you can. You just went through hell, okay?"

The woman returned to attending her child, who had drained one breast and was grunting for more. He took the other without hesitation, putting a death grip on it as though he knew it was his lifeline in this precarious world. His Bearer ran her hand over his smooth crest and the surrounding lock bumps, while he made a tiny growl over having his feast disturbed.


	23. Cabbages and Kings

**Chapter 22: Cabbages and Kings**

"_**Fairy tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." ― **__**G.K. Chesterton**_

"Your daughter did well in Training," the mellow voice carried across the sound of the water flowing from the fountain in the Matriarch's garden.

"Yes, her father informed me. She was very happy with his praises, and also her grandfather's, but I think she was happy to get home." Melanie looked up from her weeding to see the strong legs of Theron approaching her. Lean compared to the other Hunters she knew, he was recognizable by their thin muscularity and grayer coloring. Most Hunters were dark with undertones of brown, green or even black. Their hues characteristically became darker on the dorsal aspect and lightened to nearly cream on some as the scaly skin rounded from back to belly.

He stopped and stood over her kneeling body and watched as she brushed her hands together to free them from dirt. A pile of pulled plants was at her side, and a soil loosening tool was laid across them. "Why do you do this?" he asked curiously.

"Do what? Oh…the weeding. Well, back on Earth I enjoyed working in my mother's garden. I feel at peace when I do this – it relaxes me."

"To pull up plants and stir the soil promotes inner peace?" he pondered aloud. "How peculiar." She moved to stand and he offered a hand up. Melanie hesitated only a moment before grasping it and was surprised as she was pulled up immediately to her feet. "Whoa!" She felt dizzy for a moment at the sudden change of altitude. "I'm always amazed at how strong you guys are."

"Are your ooman males weak?"

"No, many of them are strong – at least compared to our females. But I don't know that any of them are as strong as even you." Melanie nearly bit her tongue as she realized what she had said, but the Dor'an warrior did not seem offended.

"I sense your discomfort, is it over your words?" he questioned.

"Uh, yes, Theron. I didn't mean to say that you are a weak Hunter. But you ARE, well, different that the other Hunters."

He looked kindly at her like she was one of the pups. "Yes, I am different, as is all of my Clan. Do you know why?"

"I asked Sally, and she told me that she had studied in Yaut's history about your Clan – that it is the oldest Clan on the planet, and that somehow your bloodline is the most ancient, or purer or something. Is that somewhat correct?" Feeling somewhat tasked by her inability to recall the details about Theron's Clan, Mel felt her face grow warm.

"'Or something' would be a correct answer, as well as ancient," he replied. "If you have time to listen, I will tell you about my Clan."

"I'd like that sometime, Theron, but not right now. I need to get cleaned up. I promised Signý and the other girls I'd tell them a story from Earth this afternoon."

"May I attend and listen also?" he asked, "I have not heard many Earth stories."

"Well, I don't see why not. Didn't you get enough of the girls during training camp?"

Theron spread his face broadly, "I enjoy the little ones. Their view of life is fresh and often insightful."

"Okay, I'm going to run home and clean up, I'll meet you and the children back here in the garden right after their mid-cycle meal. Does that work for you?"

The Hunter puzzled over her use of the word 'work', "I observe no work done in order for this to happen, but the time and location are suitable. I will be here when you return." Mel nearly laughed, but stifled her guffaw and trotted to her apartment to shower and change.

_He seems to want to spend time with me, _she mused. _Is he trying to change my mind about leaving because if I go that will leave Sally without a human friend? Maybe he has an ulterior motive. Well, he'd better keep it in his cloth 'cuz this Earthgirl is going home – and I'm not about to be stopped by another pregnancy!_

Scrubbing quickly under the steaming shower, Melanie looked over her nearly identical array of loincloths and top coverings. _No sense in being choosey when there's nothing to choose from. _She grabbed a set of clothing and slipped it on, using a band of some strong flexible stuff to secure her long hair back into a curly ponytail. Her mane was still a bit damp and the hair slicked to the sides of her head before gathering into the band that held it tight. A picture of her grandmother's favorite doll with its long blonde mane in a ponytail flashed into her internal vision. She remembered grandma talking to her about the cherished figure, named 'Malibu Barbie'.

Leaving her apartment, she made for the Matriarch's garden ready to be the center of attention for the crowd of small bubbly girls and one large gray Hunter. They all greeted her politely with nods and murmurs of "Good afternoon, Honorable Melanee" as Sally had taught them to say. Since they were learning English right along with Yautja, the name 'Melanee' slipped smoothly off their tongues, unlike Theron who still had some slowness in pronouncing it. Even Signý referred to her beloved Ka as 'Melanee' in a formal salutation. The 'good afternoon' part of it was something Sally had insisted on, and the Hunters had indulged her. They saw no reason why the apportionment of the cycle should have anything to do with a respectful salutation.

The woman seated herself on a bench and was quickly surrounded by young Yautja females eager to hear the story. Theron took a seat on a low stone wall nearby. Mel settled herself and began, "This is an Earth story meant to be told to children who are just your age," she began. "This is the story of a little girl named Red Riding Hood."

Mel began her story, but was soon interrupted by several confused pups who wanted to know what a Riding Hood was. Mel successfully described a red cape and hood, but was baffled in regards to the aspect of it called 'riding'. _Just what in hell makes it a riding hood? Honest to God, I never thought about it before. _Finally she quieted them with the explanation that in Earth's more ancient days, such a garment was used when riding upon a horse. She had no idea if that was true or not, but she didn't want to appear ignorant of her own planet.

Then, of course, the pups required an explanation of what a horse was. Mel enthralled them by describing it and sketching a figure in the dirt with her finger. She also told them that she had owned and ridden horses back on Earth. The pups were very impressed that a large creature like that could be tamed and ridden.

"Shall we continue the story?" All the little heads and one large gray-lock bedecked one nodded, and so she went on. She told them of the girl's relationship with her grandmother, and so had to explain that the grandmother was the Bearer of Red Riding Hood's Bearer. Then she told them how the girl traveled alone through the deep dark forest to visit her grandmother, and how something had followed her. The frightened girl ran, and the dark shape took a shorter route to the grandmother's house. There, the dark shape revealed itself as a wolf.

Mel introduced the wolf with great drama in her voice, and then stopped, suddenly realizing that she needed to explain what a wolf was. So she interwove an explanation of the wolf's appearance and told a side-tale about how wolves had been terrorizing Red's village. The pups became very excited as she described the fearsome predator.

"And before the grandmother could do anything, the wolf pounced upon her and ate her!" Several anguished growls came up from her rapt audience. Surprised, Mel looked at the defensive postures several of the larger girls had taken up. Ulfrde chittered, "Why was no one guarding the grandmother?" Arndís chimed in, "Is she not a Matriarch? Where are the Hunters?"

Mel attempted to calm them, "Remember girls, this story is about Earth. We do not have Matriarchs on Earth – we have governing bodies – like the High Council – well except for a few token Kings and Queens." She was greeted with a chorus of "What's Kings and Queens?"

She flashed a look of despair over the moving small heads to Theron, who simply sat on his bench and suppressed his sincere desire to chortle over her predicament. Seeing no help there, Mel returned to try and pick up the pieces of her tale. "I will explain Kings and Queens later, for now please just accept that Earth is different and the wolf ate the grandmother – okay?" The mops of sprouted locks bobbed in agreement, so the story went on.

Mel told them of how Red Riding Hood found the wolf disguised as her grandmother and how she was suspicious of the large ears, eyes, teeth and growling voice. Then a snide remark cut through the room, "This Red sounds pretty stupid to me not to realize it's a wolf and not her ForeBearer." The remark was followed by the clicks and twittered that equated to Yautja snickering.

Mel cut back, "Well, Red hasn't seen her grandmother in a long time, and the wolf was very, very good in creating his disguise."

"But couldn't she smell the difference?" a small rumble continued.

"Uh, no…remember that people on Earth can't smell as good as you can." Mel gave the small rumbler the look that said, 'keep it up and you are in trouble.' Knowing the look well, the rumble shut up.

Mel finally completed the story with the telling of the wolf trying to attack poor Red, and the nearby woodsman saving her. Of course, none of the pups knew what a woodsmen was, so tired of all the explaining, she told them it was a kind of Hunter. Several undersized roars greeted the killing of the wolf and Mel was inspired to add the taking of the wolf's head and tail as trophies by the Hunter woodsman.

"The End," she announced, relieved to have survived the story with some semblance of control over her audience intact. _I'll have to think through the next story I tell before I tell it. I'd not thought about all the Earth things they don't know, and how a Yautja might understand the story. Thank God that's over!_

"Girls, now let me tell you about Earth Kings and Queens." Her audience stilled from their group discussion of Red, the wolf, grandmother and the Hunter woodsman. Mel explained to them how certain men and women in the historic past had been chosen to rule over the masses and were known as a King, if male, and a Queen, if a female.

A small hand shot up, "Honorable Melanee, were they chosen because they were the bravest and strongest?"

"They probably were at first – long ago. But over time as a family came into power, they wanted to keep the Kings and Queens in their own family – their own Bloodline you know." The pups nodded in understanding of the desire for the success of your own Bloodline.

"They didn't have to prove themselves to their own Bloodline as worthy of being a King or Queen?"

"No," Mel replied, "In fact, some Bloodlines had medical problems that were passed down through their Bloodline – like something called hemophilia. That is when the blood from a wound won't clot and keeps on bleeding. Someone with this problem can bleed to death. Poor leadership from a Bloodline is one of the reasons that Kings and Queens were replaced with government."

"Ka?" Signý's gentle voice reached her mother's ears. She had been troubled by the Riding Hood tale and was still turning it over in her mind. "I will instruct my children to never, ever leave you unguarded!" Her daughter stood there, proud that she had thought of such a thing.

"Thank you, daughter. I know that your children will be as smart and brave and good as you are!" Guilt wrenched at Mel's heart, for she knew that she would not be on this planet for her grandchildren to guard someday. _I need to talk to her about this – soon I think. _"Now, off to your play," she encouraged and the growing pups raced each other to the playroom and their toys. The Hunters had not been certain about this thing called 'playroom' but soon realized the usefulness of having the children's stimulus and learning activities confined to one area of the Matriarch's apartment.

In the playroom, the imaginative pups modeled the world of their experience and the one told to them mostly by the Hunters. So mock battles with soft versions of weapons raged, and stuffed creature-shaped furs were stalked and killed, the detachable heads being taken for worthy trophies. Sometimes the girls promoted one of their ranks to Matriarch and took turns pretend guarding her. The rest plotted mutiny against her and tried to sneak up without being seen by the 'guards'. Another favored game was 'Arbitrator'. Lots were drawn to determine the 'Badblood', who related some horrible deed she had done and then was off to try and escape the searching of the others. This variation of 'hide and seek' had evolved soon after the girls had learned what an Arbitrator was. Sometimes they fought over who would play their hero, Honorable Elite Elder Aldúlfr. Other times the troop played 'Chiva' and broke up into trios of UnBlooded who sought trophies from the other girls playing "Ultimate Prey". They had not yet been introduced to the hard meats or Kande Amedha that they would battle for the right to wear the Clan Mark on their foreheads.

A new game, called Training Camp, was currently under invention. One of the pups was taking a turn at being the Trainer and was giving the others a lecture on honor. Her 'students' sat cross-legged on the floor and made faces at each other behind her back as she paced the floor around her charges, speaking most seriously about her topic.

"So, Theron, what did you think of my story?" Mel asked the Hunter after the girls had departed.

"It was entertaining," he softly chortled. "Especially when you had to explain Earth english words and customs to them. It was very…educational, I think. I did not realize that oomans had the Kings and Queens in existence today – even though their power is limited."

"Yes, they are tokens of their old status really. But their people still love and respect them. I think it's important to their sense of identity."

"I liked how you incorporated our Hunt tradition of trophies in the story. I assume that you added that, and it was not part of the original tale."

"You assume correctly," she laughed. "I figured I might as well make the story…well, more realistic for them, according to what they are learning here."

"It might be useful for you to study even more about our customs."

"It might. But I plan on returning home eventually, when my daughter is old enough."

Theron thought about the condition Mel had set, and then asked, "When will that be?"

"I don't know, honestly. This is my first alien child, you know."

The Hunter scented her bitterness, but refrained from commenting on it. Instead he said, "Your daughter will be well taken care of in your absence. I will see to it personally if you request."

"That is, uh, thoughtful of you, but I'm sure that her Father will look out for her."

"Yes. Of course, the first right of care for her is his. But if something should happen to him, I would gladly step in as his surrogate, and I would bring her to see you on occasion…if you would like that."

Melanie looked at him, warmth growing in her heart. "Yes, please. I'd welcome you seeing to her welfare if something were to happen to her father. Are you concerned that something WILL happen to him?"

"No. But life has its risks. Do not you oomans also provide for the welfare of your young should a parent die?"

"Yes, yes we do. And I appreciate you thinking of it. And regarding visiting me, why yes, I'd like that very much. I'd feel very bad if I were never to see her again. In spite of wanting to return to Earth, I do love her. I want the very best for her in life, and I think that would be for her to fit into this society – her society. I'll never fit in, and I don't want her to feel bad for me, or bear any difficulty because of me. Can you understand?"

"I understand your feelings and care for your pup, and also that you want all things for her benefit. If you feel that you will hinder that – then I understand your desire to leave. But you could fit in, Mel-an-ee, just like the Honorable Matriarch, if you wanted to do so, I would help you." His earnest gaze caught hers and held her in this moment of truth.

"Thank you, Theron, but that is the crux of the problem – I don't want to fit in. I want to go home."

"Very well," he bowed in deference to her decision. "When the time comes, as I previously said, I would be honored to be the Hunter to escort you back to your planet."

"I'd be honored to have you do that. And Theron…I'd feel bad if I never saw you again either."

"As would I," he replied, and then quickly added, "It is never good to lose a friend."

* * *

The phalanx of black armored Yautja was gathered in the large Hall of Arbitrators. In front of them stood the intimidating figure of the Elder Elite Arbitrator, Aldúlfr, attired in the great glory that accompanied his rank. Specific carvings in his scaled metal commemorated his great kills for justice and the honor of the race. Few could hope to equal or magnify his accomplishments. He drew in a great breath, getting ready to address his warriors as his lock skulls and rings gave a brief chatter with his slight movement. "Honorable Arbitrators of Yaut! This assemblage is called to begin the mission to hunt down those young Hunters, both Blooded and UnBlooded, who have abandoned society. It may simply be an unsanctioned Hunt deep within the jungle, or it may be something much more sinister that is taking place.

"I have formed you into teams of three, each with a Leader. You will travel to appointed coordinates and begin a systematic search of the jungle that belts our world. Your orders are to report to me as soon as any of the missing Yautja are found. Once I am informed of the situation, I will decide on how best to bring them to justice. In the meantime, I will stand guard close to the Matriarch and her offspring in order to assure their safety. Arbitrators, you have your mission – in the names of Paya and Cetanu , I charge you to carry out your duty, or die trying!"

A resounding growl of affirmation answered him, as all the Arbitrators slammed their right fists onto their chests, and then departed in groups of three to begin the chase. Aldúlfr watched them with a look of satisfaction on his grizzled face. He had trained virtually all of the Arbitrators assigned to this mission and they formed a formidable force against which the BadBloods, if indeed there were any, would not stand. Their tall forms left the Hall, black cloaks of the Leaders flowing ominously down their broad backs like extensions of their inky locks.

Aldúlfr's own white locks decorated his cloak like so much long braid that dripped over his still square shoulders. His great number of years had allowed the shiny tendrils to pass his waistline some long cycles ago, and spoke to his vigor as well as the skill in battle that had allowed him to survive for so long. He was not arrogant in his mastery, as he knew that with the passage of time eventually another within the ranks would rise to defeat him. It was then that he would decide either to apply himself to the High Council, or go on Last Hunt. It was not a future that clouded his thinking at the moment, his mind was only on the safety of Sally and her pups, and solving the mystery of the disappearance of so many of the young of Yaut. He hoped that the foolishness of a clandestine Hunt was the reason, but deep in his gut he felt the tension that always warned him of imminent danger.

He headed back to his quarters, wondering if he should allow the pups to return to the training camp for another stay before the missing Yautja were found. He would feel overprotective and foolish if their classes were put on hold for a reason that did not materialize. He would feel worse if any harm came to them due to an error in his judgment.

The teams of Arbitrators headed for their transports immediately and with all speed made for their designated landing points scattered strategically around the perimeter of the belt of green that surrounded the planet. From these landing places, they would send up small winged robots equipped with heat and light spectrum cameras which would record and broadcast any signs of Hunters in the depths of the plant life below. It would take some time to cover the vast equatorial landscape, but the Arbitrators were patient, knowing that the wayward young Yautja would soon be found.

* * *

Deep in the jungle the young Hunters gathered their females and pups. Most of the births had been successful; only one female had required that the pup be cut from her body in order to save it. The woman had immediately gone into shock and bled out. Duncan had to be forcibly restrained by Kash'ta during the procedure. She had gone wild with anger, her own bulging abdomen forgotten in her rage at the death of the ooman female. The pup was turned over to one of the others who was producing an abundance of milk, and dared not refuse to care for it.

Shortly afterwards, Duncan had gone into labor. It was a long, arduous process with the pain becoming nearly unbearable at times. The auburn haired woman, drenched with sweat, had screamed every swear word she could think of at Kash'ta as she strained to push the child out. Even at a distance, he had heard her epithets and though they were unknown, her meaning was clear. The Healer had told him that the subsequent births would be much easier on the females, and that the mating process would also be easier on them due to all the stretching.

Duncan only knew that she would never feel the same again after passing the bowling ball head of this monster child. The relief that coursed over her as his crowning skull finally pushed through her passage, followed by his slippery body was almost euphoric. She could breathe again! She grunted and groaned as a few more contractions delivered the placenta. Before she could draw another breath, the barely dried, squalling infant was placed in her arms. The newborn was heavy for its size and greedily rooted at her for sustenance. Gingerly she placed one teat near the babe's face and gasped when the already strong mandibles reached for it. Grasping firmly, the nipple was guided to the powerful sucking motion of the inner muscles of its mouth.

The draining of her milk was almost painful as the infant drew powerfully upon her flesh, but then she relaxed a little and liquid life flowed freely for the few moments it took to drain her breast. Quickly she switched the already complaining pup to the other one which was also emptied. Grunting, the baby began to look at its mother and memorize her face. The face of the life-giver was indelibly imprinted in just a few seconds. It belched several times, emptied its bladder upon her arm and then promptly went to sleep.

Duncan was so astounded by the maturity of the strange newborn, coupled with the obvious red tones of the lock bumps on the child that she had not bothered to notice it was a girl. Kash'ta was surrounded by the congratulations of his band for Siring the first female of the new Clan. When all the shoulder shakes had been delivered, he sauntered over to where Duncan was sitting holding his new child. He reached down and stroked the red head, nodding his appreciation, and then draped a small fur over Duncan's shoulder and pointed to the pup. Nodding back to him, she swaddled the infant who continued to sleep soundly.

The new mother explored the napping baby, as much as she could without waking it. The skin was soft and smooth, the tiny pale scales perfectly mimicking human skin. Four perfect fingers and a thumb, each sporting a soft talon, adorned the end of each perfect forearm. The same was noted for the tiny toes on the tips of the feet. Her adult pattern of mottling was visible beneath the pale skin and would grow darker quickly to act as excellent camouflage for the nearly helpless infant. The tuskless mandibles and fangless jaws opened and closed slightly with each little breath the snoozing child took. Duncan suddenly realized that the baby needed a name. The father had not named it, so perhaps it was up to her? That would require some pondering. The woman sat with her warmly furred child, thinking of a suitable name, while stroking the Yautja knife concealed in her loincloth waist.

The Hunter had given it to her during the difficult childbirth, when she had to cut the woman in order for her to past the baby without tearing. He had not asked for it back, and quickly wiping the blade on the ground leaves, Duncan secreted it at her waist. It had been there ever since. Had the Healer forgotten he'd given it to her? Or was he allowing her to toy with the idea of attacking one of them. Nothing would hold them back, not even her sex, she realized, if she played the role of aggressor with a weapon. She would be killed without mercy and her pup given to another to nurse.

Kash'ta appeared suddenly before her, "Up!" he growled, oddly extending a hand to assist her. She took it and hauled the pup up with her. "Come," he reverberated and she fell in behind him. All the other Hunters were walking. Those few who had mates, carrying pups, made certain they trailed behind them. The Hunter whose mate had died during childbirth carried his own pup as the female who nursed it was too burdened hauling her own to deal with his also.

They trod an invisible trail through the darkest part of the jungle that Duncan had yet seen. Skyscraping plants, reaching to the orange sun, encompassed them, their trunks choked with shade-loving dense vegetation that grew as tall as the Hunters. The Yautja in the lead broke trail for them, occasionally consulting his wrist com to check his bearing. Kash'ta pointed ahead at something and Duncan could make out a pristine white structure rising mystically from the green below. It was crumbling in places and the jungle tried to envelope it but, even after millennia of long cycles, the whiteness stuck out like a beacon to them.

The group walked on through the verdant sea until they came to a caved in entrance. The Hunters looked at their wrists and consulted with each other. "The main entrance has fallen, but there is a secondary hidden entrance here," Kash'ta pointed to a spot on the hologram. With a grunt, the group was again hiking. This time they circumvented the white base which was nearly buried in plant fall and unpruned wild vine-like plants. On another side of the four-sided base, a Hunter sized dark pathway into the building was visible – if you knew where to look. Kash'ta went straight for it, followed by the rest of the group. Soon they were inside the oldest known temple in Hunter history, the long forgotten Temple to Paya. Toasted in saga and ceremony, the Godess of Life would offer further protection for his new Clan deep in the bowels of her stone temple where no scanners could penetrate. The stones, the bones of Yaut, would secure their safety from any who might be seeking them.

The coolness underground was a relief to the human women who had been baking since they put foot on Yaut. When the moist cave-like air hit the Hunters, they switched on their environmental mesh suits. Kash'ta and the original crew had replaced theirs via the new recruits to their cause. Duncan's mate shivered for a few moments until the mesh warmth sank into his muscles. He mentally thanked Paya for being able to obtain a replacement suite. Without them, the Hunters would have faced continual discomfort and the possibility of illness in this cold, damp place.

It was an ideal hide-out for the Badblood gang. Some element within the white stones had always prevented any scanner from looking within, which was one reason the Chiva hunts had been moved off world to places like the Blue Planet, where Mission Elders could track the progress of their students through the Chiva pyramids. Careful forays into the jungle and farther into the cultivated fields would provision the Clan and keep them strong.

Kash'ta prided himself on careful planning and leaving little to chance. He did not know, but if Arbitrators were seeking them, they would not be easily found. Here he could continue to grow his minions and strategize their move on the Matriarch and the abominations called her pups. Someday his race would carve his visage in the Hall of Antiquities and he would be known as the savior of his people. He would do away with the ineffective Hall of High Elders and replace it with a single, honorable, wise and courageous Leader – himself! He would protect the Yautja from themselves as though they were small pups. He would show them the way!

All of the hybrid pups had been born by the time the troop marched to find the pyramid. Now, deep underground in a large chamber, the Healer was giving the babies an inspection. Carefully he took measurements and recorded them on his wrist com as a curious expression began to form on his face. He looked back over his records on the infants, as well as the time that had passed since each one's birth. Clicking with displeasure, his great brow furrowed.

"Is there a problem?" Duncan asked him.

"Healthy," he growled back and hurried to find Kash'ta. After wandering through several corridors and rooms, he stumbled upon his Leader enjoying a hot soak with his favored friend, Kylfa. "Honorable Kash'ta," he began, "I regret intruding upon your bath, but I must speak to you regarding our offspring."

"What is it, Healer?" the Leader returned affably, the hot soak having soothed his usual temperament.

"I have been keeping records on the growth of the pups since their birth. They are too small, Leader. Something must be wrong with them!"

A look of concern overcame Kash'ta's relaxed face and his mandibles clicked to attention as his eyes pierced the space between the bath and the Healer. "Did they not develop normally in the womb?" he crisply queried.

"Honorable Kash'ta," the Healer fumbled a bit, "they…they were a little small, but not small enough to be concerned about."

"So, you decided to keep that information to yourself, rather than report it to me?" Kash'ta growled and the Healer shrunk in submission.

"It was nothing to be concerned about, in my professionally educated opinion," the Healer nearly whined.

"May I interrupt?" Kylfa butt in.

"What is your contribution to this conversation?" Kash'ta's flaring mandibles waved impatience.

"I recall the words of our Healer on our mission to the Blue Planet. He stated that pups carried by ooman females were small and oomanish unless Yautja medicine interfered with their growth process. So this may be perfectly normal." Kylfa relaxed back into the steamy water, knowing what would come next.

"So I now learn truth from an Honorable Hunter who has not studied at the Hall of Healing, rather than from my own supposedly educated Healer?"

"My specialty was experimental Healing, not childbirth," the Healer defended his ignorance.

Kash'ta splayed threateningly at the Healer, "Out of my sight you ignorant backside of a rynth! Our new nation is not ooman and not Yautja – it is hybrid. The pups are what they are, surely they will carry our strength as well as the cunning of oomans!"

With that, Kash'ta sank back into the hot waters with Kylfa, closed his eyes and tried to regain his relaxed state. "Well done, Kylfa," he murmured. "You are the only other I can completely trust. We are about to undertake the mission that we have planned and longed for. My trust in you leads me to ask you to stay here and guard our females and our pups. I will leave the Healer here also. It should not take more than two of you to manage things. I will command the Healer to follow your orders, as you will be our Clan's leader until my return."

Kylfa was once again deeply honored by his friend's request. "Sei! I will guard all of our females and offspring with my life. I am honored to serve you."

"Kylfa, once again…if I do not return, I place the burden of leadership upon you. Keep our Clan safely in this place, ensure that the females bear as many pups as possible to as many Hunters as possible. More and more have heard of us and continue to make their way to our signpost in the jungle. I believe that will continue, even if I am gone. Grow our Clan until it is strong enough to challenge our ignorant ForeSires for our homeworld! Swear to me that you will do this, Kylfa!"

"Upon my life's blood, I swear it," Kylfa returned, taking his knife from the bath's edge and making a stroke in his palm, he then held it up to drip freely into the water. A shoulder shake affirmed Kash'ta's appreciation of his oath.

"We will strike soon," he rumbled, "I look to Paya for a sign. Then we wage war against that which is unholy!"

"You will be victorious, Honorable Kash'ta! None will stand before you and the wrath of Paya!"

_A/N: It is the season of thankfulness here in the U.S., so I wish all of my wonderful readers a Happy Thanksgiving Holiday. Remember to retrieve the wishbone as a trophy! And if you enjoyed this chapter, or even if you didn't – please take a moment to leave a review. It would be most appreciated._


	24. The Art of Killing

**Chapter 23: The Art of Killing**

"_**If it bleeds, we can kill it." –Arnold Schwarzenegger, Predator**_

The muffled pattering of many small feet drew Sally's attention from her work as she sat reviewing the latest aseigan assignments near the partition doorway between her quarters and her Consorts. _What are those girls up to now? They'd better have not entered Aldúlfr's rooms without his permission! _Alarmed, she rose, placing the reading tablet on the nearby table, the glowing page of translated Yautja words filling the rectangular face with black letters against a palely lit background.

She paused before opening the door because she now heard the low unmistakable rumble of her Consort. _Too late to save my girls! If they broke in, I hope he makes them scrub his floor with their toothbrushes! _She mentally grinned with the knowledge that the Yautja did not use, or even need toothbrushes.

Myn'dill had been greatly puzzled when she first drew a picture of a toothbrush for him and requested he find someone to make it for her. Clearly he did not understand, so she described her need to Sig'dan, who promptly searched the trades section of the city until he found a Yautja who agreed to attempt to create it. Sally now had a collection of lustrous bone-handled tooth cleansers with bristles of unknown origin. She'd had to return the prototype several times until the maker got it right with soft enough, neatly organized stubble. The implement worked well, and she'd promptly ordered a basketful to ensure a ready supply in case something happened to the Hunter who'd made them.

When the pups were younger, barely able to toddle and drooling with erupting fangs, they had caught her brushing her teeth one day and the entire group had surrounded her, watching her activity with intense interest. It was one of their first lessons in how she was different from them and they had peered with fascination into her open mouth as she bent down for them to examine her blunt teeth and then looked into each other's mouths and touched the newly exposed fangs.

Along with differences in dentition, her lips were a source of entertainment for them also. They were delighted that she could roll them inward and make popping noises which would cause peals of high chortles as they attempted to imitate the sound. True bafflement was caused when she had first whistled. A bevy of pup heads had all cocked at that certain angle simultaneously, followed by odd huffing as they tried to imitate her. It was impossible sans lips. "Don't worry," she reassured them, "I can't chirp." That statement had led to her daughters deliberately chirping calls at her, and so in retaliation, the Matriarch would whistle in return until all their mouths were tired with the effort.

The patter of pup feet stopped and Sally clandestinely cracked open the heavy door until she could peek inside. It was very rude to enter someone's quarters without announcing your presence and requesting permission to enter – but her curiosity overcame her manners and she knew when it came to her pups the Consort would be generous with her.

With one eyeball scanning her Consort's room, she made out the girls standing at attention in several rows before the Elder Arbitrator who was slowly pacing the floor in front of them and addressing them most seriously. "Young pups of the Clans, after careful consideration I have decided to create a new rank in my legions. I proudly bestow the rank of Young Pup Arbitrator-in-Training to each of you. You will serve the Matriarch's household in this capacity, going on whatever missions I assign you. This is a great Honor to each of you – do you accept this responsibility?"

The young girls stayed stiffly in formation and, as one immature voice, stated, "Sei, Honorable Elder Arbitrator, we accept!"

"It is Honorable ELITE Elder Arbitrator, small ones. Let me show you how to properly salute me." He snapped one massive fist to mid-chest where it made a solid thump of connection. "Now, Young Pup Arbitrators-in-training, let us try that again. Do you accept this responsibility?"

"Sei, Honorable ELITE Elder Arbitrator, we accept!" As these words came forth, they all smacked their right fists to their small chests in proper salute and then clicked to each other in mission solidarity. One had hit her chest a little too exuberantly and everyone had to wait until her fit of coughing was over. The Elder Arbitrator was patient with her enthusiasm.

"Excellent! My first orders to you involve the tracking, capture, and bringing to justice of a menacing creature that has invaded our household." The pups' eyes opened wide. They had not heard of any creature threatening their domain – this sounded like a real hunt!

Aldúlfr went on to describe a creature that sounded much like a cat to Sally. It had four legs and fur, a long tail and very sharp tusks and teeth. The pups were instructed to be wary of touching it as the animal could scratch and bite. He explained that this creature hid during the day and needed to be found, flushed out into the open, and then killed. They had not been aware of it because it hunted their dwelling by night, searching for food and water.

"When you have located the creature, call for the other pups to come and surround it with you. One of you must come and find me, I will show you how to capture and kill it. DO NOT try to kill it yourselves – you must know the proper way to dispatch it without ruining your trophy. Do you understand?" All the chin-length locks bobbed along with the heads they rode as the pups nodded most seriously.

He then divided the females into small groups and designated one the mission Leader of each group. "Now, in the names of Paya and Cetanu I charge you to carry out your duty!" The groups of little not-even-close-to-being Hunters marched off, determined to save the family from this menace. After they had left his rooms, the Consort began clicking his amusement while he walked near the entrance to Sally's quarters and swiftly stuck his strong fingers in the doorway which was about to close. Taking a grip with only his talons, he slid open the door to find Sally who looked a bit guilty.

He cocked his head in mock question at her rudeness. "You like?" he questioned.

"Aldúlfr, you are training them to be Arbitrators?" Sally's laughter filled the hallway. Although she had not understood his words, seeing him lecture the girls while they stood at attention and gave the Arbitrator's salute was a dead giveaway.

"Sei," he seriously nodded back to her, and then his deep chortle joined her.

"Are you asking them to do something dangerous?" her tone took a serious dip and she looked sternly into his white quilled face. He studied her face right back for a moment turning over her strange words. Then he punched his com and ordered Theron to their location. As the gray Hunter hurried to them, the Consort invited Sally to take a seat over by a window. She nodded to him, having understood the name "Theron" in the growling syllables.

Soon, the translator was with them. He looked expectantly at the Elder who had summoned him. "Tell the Matriarch that the creature the pups hunt in her dwelling will not cause any of them serious harm. It will not cause harm to any of them if they obey my orders!" Theron turned and said the words in English to Sally.

'What creature in my house? " Sally stewed, "The guards would have sensed an animal in here. Did you catch something and let it go in the house?"

"Guilty as charged, Honorable Matriarch," he answered through Theron. "It is a gentle beginning Hunt for them, and the creature will do no harm to your household. I will ensure that the pups clean up any mess they make."

_Sally, put on your Yautja hat, _she ordered herself mentally. "Thank you for training them, my Consort," she replied, and then with a sly smile remarked, "It was fun to watch you playing with them." The translator nearly took a step backward. How could he say that to the Honorable Consort? "Go again," Sally encouraged, "tell him – and tell him that I insisted you translate it." Theron turned to the Consort and delivered Sally's words to the now stone-faced Elder Arbitrator.

"All play has a purpose," he replied dryly.

"Yes, that is true. But I witnessed you enjoying yourself with them – it was very pleasurable to watch. You are a good Sire, Aldúlfr. I am grateful that you are here for them."

The titanic Elder nodded at Theron's repetition in Yautja of her words, and then dismissed the translator. When they were again alone, the Consort stood purposefully and walked to Sally, gesturing for her to also rise. When she did, he bent to her on a single knee in the posture he had assumed during their bonding ceremony when he pledged his fealty to her. Sally was touched by his display. Without words he had demonstrated his value of her and the bond they shared. She placed her small human hands on either side of his powerful side jaws and looked into the pools of experience and wisdom that were his eyes. Not Ulfr but his father was now a dear friend, companion and parent. Llike Ulfr, he was a rock in her life her on Yaut.

"Thank you," she whispered, "for everything." She bowed in her symbol of submission to him, showing him the depth of her appreciation. In turn, he opened his mandibles and grazed the sides of her face with gentle tusks as her hands followed his facial movements, completely trusting him. The grazing turned into a full jawed embrace of her face while powerful arms surrounded, but did not touch her body.

She found the gentle trap pulling away from her skull as the Elder Hunter, still on one knee, took her bodily into his full embrace, his flesh a fortress of power making her feel totally protected and completely cared for. Sally relaxed into the unusual display of tenderness and spoke to him in dulcet tones, "Aldúlfr, I have loved two of your sons. With all you are doing for me and my children, how can I withhold my love from you? I see you in my memories of Ulfr, just as surely as I see you in Sig'dan. You brought about the creation of both of them, and imbued them with your strength and intelligence. You are the fount of goodness from which your Bloodline springs. My love for you is different than what I feel for your sons, but I love you nonetheless."

He held her away after her words had sunk in; this was too intimate an expression to call for the translator. He gleaned what he could from her declaration and huffed in her gratefulness and admiration of him. He also thought that she somehow compared his two sons Ulfr and Sig'dan to him. It was good that she preferred his Bloodline, he decided. If the Healer's work was successful, perhaps he could eventually demand her submission to his pent-up desire. Myn'dill's latest report had been most encouraging, even though the Healer had attempted to manage the Elder's expectations.

Aldúlfr rumbled his appreciation and admiration back to Sally, who ran her fingers over his craggy eye ridges as he spoke. The soft strokes soothed him and he closed his eyes to savor her touch. Their reverie was rudely interrupted by the signal of the door com. "It's probably business," sighed Sally and gave the Elder's face one last pass of her palm before going to answer the com. "Sei?" she questioned.

"It is Theron, Honorable Matriarch, I am here with Arndís. She is looking for the Consort with an urgent message."

"He is here, what is the message?"

Theron answered in Yautja, "The pups seem to have trapped some animal in the Matriarch's garden, and they request you to attend them, Honorable Consort."

"Ah! Excellent!" the Consort replied and made for the door, followed by Sally. He spoke to Theron who then addressed Sally.

"Sal-lee, the Consort regrets that he must depart to attend to the pups and wonders if you wish to witness the instruction of the pups in how to make a kill?"

"Not really," she answered. "Will anyone be offended if I do not go? I will be in the library if I am needed."

Theron rumbled her words to Alfdulfr, who growled back affectionately, "There is no offense. Your heart is Yautja, but your sensibilities are still human. It will be enough if you listen to the young females tell you about their hunt. Your pups would benefit from your praise for their trophy."

"Thank you for your understanding," Sally replied, "I look forward to hearing of my daughter's hunting adventure and admiring their trophy."

"Honorable Matriarch," Theron addressed her, "Honorable Mel-an-ee wishes to attend the market and I wish to accompany her. Will you need my presence before evening?"

"I believe I can get along just fine until then. You two go enjoy the market," directed Sally. _I don't know if he's making any headway with her. If he does perhaps she'll change her mind about leaving._

The pups were wound like a wreath around the tall statue of a Hunter in the garden. At the top of the statue, adorning the image's crown was a small dark-furred animal, splaying its mandibles and hissing at the pups below. Two groups of pups had tracked the animal by scent into the green atrium and then, guarding the exits, had howled for the others to join them. Cautiously the miniature Hunters had spread out on the green spaces perimeter and then slowly walked to the center, sending the animal before them. Driving their prey toward the bulls eye of the park while keeping it surrounded, they had watched it climb the statue where it now sat, challenging its enemy from the top.

Aldúlfr arrived only to have the pups jump to attention and smack little fists over their chests. "Your response is appreciated," he told them, "but there is no need for such formality on the Hunt. By taking your eyes and focus off your prey – you give it an opportunity to escape." He pointed to the statue, now bear of its furry cap. Stifling chitters of dismay, the girls broke into their teams and began tracking the animal. It cleverly wound around its former scent trail, so the hunting teams split up and began following all the fresh paths that testified of the animal's passage.

The Elder Arbitrator watched the scurrying teams, barely able to contain his mirth. It had been long since he had spent time with younglings. Their adventures brought back memories of his own early days when everything was new and yet to be learned. Memories he had not dusted off in countless cycles, now brought delight as he remembered what it felt like to be a student in a world filled with awe-inspiring adults and the promise of his own greatness deep within his bones. His junior Arbitrators were earnestly on the trail, he could perhaps retire to his quarters for a time without being disturbed. He wanted to read the latest reports from his real Arbitrators regarding their search through Yaut's jungles. He would leave his doors open so as to keep track of the small Hunters' progress.

Aldúlfr settled in the great chair provided for him and began reading the standard reports. Perimeter searches were underway where the cultivated belt gave way to the dense wild plantings of Paya. He had been reading and comparing reports all afternoon when suddenly the sound of pup howls wove through the air. Closing his reading tablet, he hurried to join them only the slightest bit stiff from sitting for all that time.

This round, the prey had finally been cornered in the library where it had climbed the niches and was hiding high up behind an ancient mosaic covered panel. The Arbitrator directed two of the pups to climb the niche filled wall, one on each side of the creatures hiding place. As it heard them approach, the Elder hoped it would make a desperate attempt to get away and give him the opportunity to seize it without ruining the valuable work of art.

The pups scrambled up the wall, trying to move quietly. Aldúlfr was counting on the small beast hearing its pursuers crabbing up the wall and make a desperate move. He didn't wait long. As the pups neared the niche den, the dark furry thing dashed up the wall to find only the ceiling. Made stupid with fear it then attempted to run upside down and actually appeared to for an instant. Then it plunged down into the very large, waiting grasp of the Arbitrator. Seizing the trailing long tail with one hand, he whipped its body in an arc through the air until its neck fell into his other hand. He let the neck slip over his palm and then pinched down to clench the loose nape of skin on the back of its neck. The screeching animal was now helpless, stretched out between the rack of Aldúlfr's strong hands. It bawled and flailed all four taloned feet, but found no purchase on any of its captor's flesh. The Elder waited for the creature to exhaust itself. He dared not let any of the pups come close until the scrabbling legs relaxed. It was a very strong specimen so he hurried the process along by extending his fingers around the windpipe and squeezing softly. In short order the legs quieted as the animal became unconscious. "Young Pup Arbitrators-in-training!" he boomed. "Approach carefully!"

The excited pups moved in on the now limp prey, stretched like a mounted skin between the Elder Arbitrator's hands. The bravest of them, Ulfrde, was the first to come close, her mandibles quivering with excitement. "Would you assume the honor of the kill?" he asked her. She nodded, too excited to speak. As though touching a priceless artifact, she placed her hands properly as directed by Aldúlfr – one to grasp the neck, the other over the skull top, fingers draping around the sides. With a twist and sharp snap, the cervical bones were fractured and the spinal cord lacerated. Death came in an instant, and Ulfrde surprised herself by letting out a ferocious victory growl as instinct overcame her. Her cry was answered by the others in an ancient chorus of triumph which echoed through the corridors until it assaulted the ears of the Matriarch.

_It is done, _Sally thought. _A certain bridge has been crossed now with this first instruction in the kill. Ulfrde killed that small rat-like thing earlier, but it was an act of instinct with no training – or so Sig'dan informed me. There was no elegance – she simply pulled its head off. Now, and I bet it was Ulfrde again, she really understands how to kill. _A shiver ran down Sally's spine. This was necessary. It was necessary and right, in the Yautja way of doing things, in order for them to grow up properly. As she reasoned this out, she felt more of her humanness slipping away, leaving her in order to make room for this compulsory manner of looking at things.

When the pups had finished their yowls of success, they were shown how to clean and prepare the skull. Aldúlfr let them take turns applying the tissue dissolving chemicals and suctioning the liquid from the bone. Soon they were left with a pure white trophy that now required polishing to make it sparkle. Each pup was allowed to buff and shine the prize until it gleamed. They all impatiently waited their turn as their fortunate sister rubbed the trophy with a glossing cloth a few times before reluctantly passing it on.

Finally taking the skull, lest the ridges get polished off, Aldúlfr addressed them. "All of you are to be commended for this successful mission. The Badblood was tracked and surrounded, not once – but twice! Surely the sign of a superior set of pups! Ulfrde braved coming close to the prey first, so I allowed her the honor of the kill – which she performed efficiently. Well done, Ulfrde!

"Since it is your kill, I will allow you to decide the fate of this trophy." He handed it down to her and she grasped it greedily, petting the smooth oval and admiring the fine facial structure. Her Sire bent down to her and spoke quietly, "Little One, could you have made this kill without the help of your sisters?"

Ulfrde thought for a few moments, already knowing where this was leading. "In purity, I could have not. It took all of us to surround and flush it. Yet, only I made the kill. I regret that there was only one creature and that the others could not make their own kills."

"You speak purely," he answered. "With this knowledge, to whom do you think this trophy belongs?"

Without hesitation, his adopted daughter answered, "It belongs to all of us, K'var. How can we best handle this? We do not yet have trophy rooms to display it in. If we did, we could each have it for a time."

"Let us ask permission of the Matriarch to create a display area in the Reception Hall. We can then mount this trophy there, as well as the many that will follow. Some will be in an area for a team kill – such as today, others will be in designated areas for each of you. Do you think that will suffice?"

"Thank you for your wisdom, Honorable Elite Elder Arbitrator. That will suffice."

"Now, tell your sisters of your decision…go ahead."

Ulfrde turned to her sisters and held up the cherished trophy. "My sisters! We all share in the honor and glory of this kill. We will ask the Honorable Matriarch for permission to mount it in the Reception Hall, where all may see to what end Badbloods come when we pursue them!" Her speech was met with howls and chatters of glee as her sisters ran, thinking to embrace her. Then they remembered their manners and gave her shoulder shakes instead – so many that they nearly knocked her over.

"Now, my students," Aldúlfr readdressed them, "assemble your dignity and go show your Ka this well-earned trophy and tell her of your accomplishment!"

Arndís led the procession, with Ulfrde right behind her, carrying the gleaming skull. Outside their Bearer's room, one pup climbed on the handhold of two others and was then tall enough to press the com. "Sei," their Ka's voice answered from within.

"We, your offspring, are here…to tell you of our Hunt and show you our trophy."

The doorway soon parted to reveal Sally's smiling face, "Come in! I am anxious to hear about your adventure and your victory!" Decorum was immediately forgotten as the chittering herd entered her room, all talking at once. Sally beamed at them, nodding at the snippets of story coming at her from all sides and taking the ivory skull that was thrust into her hands. All the pups went quiet as she held it up and gave it a long and careful examination. She smoothed the cranium while remarking, "How well cleaned it is!" Then she admired the face, holding it right up level with her own. "Look at the beautiful symmetry!" Running one finger over the edges of its orbits, she then pronounced it an excellent trophy. "I am so very proud of all of you. You are on your way to becoming Blooded now. I am honored to be your Bearer, and the friend of your Bearer, Signý."

"It is you who honor us," returned Arndís. "We count Signý as our sister, and we are all honored to be your offspring."

"May we show our trophy to Honorable Melanee?" requested Signý.

"Signý, I count you as one of my pups also. Yes, your Ka should be returning from the vendor market right about now. Go and meet her at the door!"

Sally had counseled Mel long and hard on how to react to the pups' first kill. Mel did not know that their first trophy had been taken while she was shopping as Theron had not informed her. Sally was counting on Mel's positive reaction when the prized noggin was waved in her face at the door.

The impatient pups did not have to wait long. Their cluster on the front step was soon alerted by one of the very tall guards, "Honorable Mel-an-ee is approaching." The small Yautja quickly assumed the ceremonial formation they had planned for Melanie and her escort Theron. The idea had been Signý's as she wanted to impress her Bearer and the mysterious Hunter who was their Trainer when at the camp.

The woman and her Dor'an guard turned off the public pathway onto the well-groomed pavers that led to the Matriarch's and Mel's apartments. Mel carried a cloth bag with handles containing her purchases for the day. The bag was light with the weight of only a few items bargained fiercely for at the market. It was a game for the human female to haggle with the vendors, trying to secure the item for the least amount possible. She was known among the vendors as a hard bargainer, willing to walk away from an item if she felt the deal was not in her favor, unlike the Matriarch who might haggle for a token reduction but was often willing to simply pay the price demanded.

Not Melanie, for her the marketplace was her Hunt and a great deal on a unique item was her prey. She eagerly stalked the aisles looking for the unusual or anything that particularly caught her eye. The stall dealers would visibly wince when her hovering turned to genuine interest upon something in their bins. They knew that if they wanted a sale, they would need to use all their skill to hold the price. This strange human female didn't speak Yautja, but she could read Yautja numbers. A combination of holding up fingers, shaking heads and writing down numbers on the papers scraps she carried would ensue – a battle of true marketplace warriors. Only one of the warriors didn't like to lose, and she would walk off in a huff if the spar seemed to turn against her. Only a very clever vendor could get the best of her and most had given up trying some time ago.

Theron had watched her silent battles in amusement and admiration. She was fearless with the vendors who were all much larger and could have easily shoved her on down the aisle. She stood up to them, making her demands clear, countering their offers with her own. Her endurance was phenomenal! She could out haggle the most talkative Hunter, who sometimes gave up out of sheer fatigue.

"It seems you feel more comfortable here in the marketplace," he remarked to her as they walked to her home.

"Well, I DO like to shop. The places I shop at back home …I mean on Earth, usually have set prices and there's no bargaining. This is much more of a challenge – and I like it!"

Her laughter was sweet to Theron's hearing. "Mel, won't you miss this after you go to Earth?"

Mel's laughter turned to a small scowl, "Well, yes, of course I will! There are things here that I'll miss, but I miss Earth more. Are you trying to change my mind?" She eyed Theron suspiciously.

"I simply am making conversation," he replied. "I will miss you when you are gone. But I will not stand in your way."

Mel considered him thoughtfully before saying more. "Theron, I'll miss you too. Of all the Yautja I have met, you are the one I like the most."

"I'm not certain how much of a complement that is," he retorted, "Seeing how much you like all of us!"

Mel grinned, "And you have a sense of humor too! I do like you, Theron. You are interesting, smart, and you speak English better than I do!"

The gray Hunter grew serious, "Is that it then? You like me because I am enjoyable to talk to? I am certain that Yaut is sometimes a lonely place for you."

"It is. There are other reasons I like you, but I don't see any benefit for either of us by going into them. I mean, I'm leaving no matter what, so what's the point?"

Theron's breathing quickened slightly before he got it back under control, the spice of his ardor leaking into the air for a nanosecond. Mel caught the faint perfume and closed her eyes to savor it. "I…uh…I have smelled this smell before, but only around you. Is it some kind of cologne or something that you use?" Mel had studied about Yautja culture, but had deliberately avoided the subject of sexuality among the Hunters.

He looked up the path ahead and said, "Look Mel, all the pups are waiting for us. It looks like they have something very important to announce – see their formation?"

Theron's scent was forgotten as Mel beheld the rows of pups standing at attention, the short runs forming sort of an arrowhead. At the arrow's tip stood her daughter, Signý, holding what appeared to be an extremely polished white skull. _Oh God, it's happened. Sally will kill me if I don't do this right._ "Theron, will you please hold my bag, I must examine that skull."

She held out the shopping bag to him and he accepted the care of it. Then, he let her walk up alone to her daughter who ceremonially extended her first trophy for her Bearer's inspection and comment. It was a significant milestone in the life of a pup. At this moment, nothing was more important than its Bearer's praise.

With great pomp, Mel accepted the cranium and began to scrutinize it. She held it up, and turned it, looking it over carefully without saying a word. Signý began to tremble with doubt and behind her, all the pups eyes took in every nuance of Melanie's inspection. Finally, she placed the trophy back in her daughter's hands and pronounced truthfully, "This is the most beautiful trophy I have ever inspected. I congratulate you Signý. I am honored to have borne you."

Signý could have jumped for joy at her Ka's words. She stood just a little taller, just a bit prouder as she replied, "It is I who am honored to be your offspring, Honorable Bearer. This trophy is the work of us all. None of us could have taken it alone."

"Then I congratulate you all on your successful Hunt!" She smiled at the entire group and nodded to them, hoping she was giving them enough praise. She didn't want to sound fake by overdoing it.

Theron came out from behind her and also inspected the skull, lavishing genuine praise upon the little females for working as a group and taking so fine a trophy. "The first of many!" he predicted. Then he looked down at Signý, who was staring up at him in unabashed admiration, her girlish short locks falling across the side of her mandibles as she cocked her head slightly. "You are as intelligent and as beautiful as your Bearer," he told her, and then slyly glanced at Melanie who was staring at him with a mixture of unreadable emotions. Neither of them saw Mel's small daughter's face turn an ever so slight shade of green. The pup looked at her dumbstruck Bearer and then back at the Hunter whose face was turned down to her, but whose attention was focused solely on her Ka. _What is going on, _she wondered. _What is wrong with Ka, and my Trainer?_ The perplexed pup felt too self-conscious to ask either of them, and decided to speak with her Ka about it later when they were alone. _He said I am intelligent and beautiful! _Her eyes glowed, reverberating with Theron's praise. She ran to join her sisters who were already parading their prize back to where it would be hung on the Reception Hall wall.

* * *

The house com lit up and Yautja characters scrawled their heat across the cooler background of the screen. Aldúlfr leaned forward in intense concentration as he read. His Arbitrator's had located the remains of what had been identified as a Healer's transport crash-landed in the jungle. Just a few small meteorites of it remained, but the metal had given off its unmistakable signal to the searchers that it had once been part of a Yautja-manufactured craft. The angle of impact was calculated and from that an orbit was postulated. The records were searched and indeed a Healer's craft had departed from the Blue Planet and had been reported as burning up upon trying to land on Yaut. No communication had been successful with ship's crew before or during the incident. It was assumed that their com was down and that all had perished in the fiery descent and, disintegrating while still plunging from the sky. Not enough of the craft was left to tell them what had happened to the crew.

The Elder Arbitrator's stomach tightened as he read the news. Leaving a doomed transport by drop ship as the transport hurled toward the planet was a standard escape plan that had sometimes been successfully accomplished. If the main ship was in a low enough orbit when the drop ships ejected, it would not have triggered the planetary security system. The probability that the Badbloods had stolen the ship and made their way back to Yaut, then effectively achieved a low orbit drop landing was low, but the possibility that it had been done made the protective Elder clench his jaws and rub his tusks together until they squeaked.

He transmitted orders to continue searching and to be on the alert. The Healer and his crew, or a team of Badbloods may just have survived. In his heart he knew it was not the Healer or his crew that had lived. They would have immediately hiked out of the jungle and sought civilization. Whoever was in the jungle was apparently recruiting YoungBloods and the unBlooded for their own purposes. Either a highly illegal hunt was going on – or something unimaginable was happening. It was the unimaginable side of the equation that made his body go on high alert. He immediately made the decision – the pups would not leave to attend another session of Training Camp until this mystery had been solved. They would stay here, safe and guarded in Melanie and the Matriarch's quarters. While the High Elders had loaned the Matriarch extra guards from their own ranks, Aldúlfr would have had a quieter mind if Sally and the pups were protected by his own Arbitrators, but they were out tracking this mystery down. It was what they were trained for, and they could serve the mission best by being in the field.

* * *

It was nearly time in the cycle to sleep. Mel and her daughter were cuddled up together on a fur covered bench and Mel was listening to Signý relate the events of her day. It was a ritual they had created when Signý had begun to talk. First Signý would talk about her day, and then Mel would share the highlights of hers. Mother and daughter bonding time was precious to them both.

"There is something important that we need to talk about," Mel began. Signý was all hearing organs. She had been waiting for the right opening to talk about the strange interaction she had noticed between her Ka and Theron. Now, her Ka was bringing up the topic and going to share with her! The pup leaned forward in anticipation.

"This is difficult to talk about. I don't want you to feel bad. I especially don't want you to think that I don't love you – because I do."

"Don't worry Ka! I understand! "

"You do?" Mel was completely taken aback. "How could you have known about this?"

"Oh, I can see – and scent!" the little one said proudly.

"But I have tried so hard to control my thoughts and feelings about this!" Mel wailed. "When did you figure it out?"

"I have been wondering about it, and of course my sisters have said some things."

"They did? How awful. Honey, you could have come to me at any time and we could have talked."

"I didn't want to embarrass you, Ka. This is a very personal thing, I understand, even though I'm only a pup."

"How could you understand?" Mel was completely puzzled now. "Signý…Honey, what do you think we are talking about?"

"About you and my Trainer, Ka – the gray Hunter. He IS very attractive! I think so too!"

Mel's hand came up over her mouth, what could she say? _The truth. My daughter deserves the truth._ "He is attractive Signý. He is the most attractive Hunter I know. But that is not what I was talking about."

"What then, Ka?" the pup's little mandibles made a pursing motion.

"Signý, you know that I am not Yautja, don't you?"

"Of course I do. You and the Matriarch have been telling us that all our lives!"

"I miss my planet, Honey. Yaut is a wonderful place, and it's your home. But I miss Earth – the Blue Planet. Can you understand that? My Sire and Bearer are there, and my brother too, along with many friends."

"Well…if I left Yaut, I'm sure that I would miss it…eventually, but mostly I would miss you, Ka!. Although it would be so exciting to see someplace new!"

Mel's voice trembled, "I love you, and I want only the best for you. I'm human, not Yautja, and I belong on Earth, not here. I need to go back to Earth, Signý."

All four of Signý's jaws quavered, "You mean go back to Earth for a visit? Right, Ka?"

"No. I mean to return to Earth to live. You can come and visit me, sometimes. We'll have a good time catching up." Mel's brave words did not match her now visibly upset face. "I'm so sorry, Honey. You didn't ask for this, but understand that I didn't ask for it either. When you are older, I'll tell you about it. For now, please just try to understand that I need to go home. I'm sorry, but I need to be alone for a while." Abruptly, Mel left and went to her bedroom, locking the door behind her. She threw herself face down on the bed, bawling into her pillow, "I'm so sorry…so sorry Signý." The agony of her decision now speared the woman through as she cried her conscience into the fur pillow.

Standing alone in the middle of the room where her mother had left her, Signý stood immersed in thought and feelings. _Ka wants to leave me,_ one part of her wailed. The other part empathized with her mother, an alien in a foreign world. For the first time, Signý pondered what that must be like for her mother, and how she would feel if their places were exchanged. Another part of her heard again her Bearer's words, "he is the most attractive Hunter I know." The youngling's mind was awash with conflicting thoughts and new feelings. She left the room to seek out her Sire. Perhaps he could comfort her and help her understand what was happening.

Healer Sig'dan was medicating and bandaging a young Hunter who had been injured during a spar. His opponent's talons had hooked him deep in the meat of one of his calves, and then sliced clean through, leaving a gaping, bleeding valley and a Yautja who could barely walk. It was not a difficult injury to heal and the NewBlood had borne the administration of medication well. In the best of Hunter tradition, he had requested the healing liquid used in the field, not the gentler ointments that were available.

Sig'dan finished wrapping the wound to hold the mending muscle together and gave the brave one a healthy shoulder shake of respect. "Leave the bandage on until next cycle," he advised. "It will heal well. I left no ointment on the surface so that you will sport a handsome scar. That will send females huffing after you some day!" He clicked, enjoying his own remark. Then ceased his amusement when the vision of his daughter, all grown up, chasing after this mended Hunter came into his mind. He could only keep teaching her and pray to Paya that the Hunters she selected were worthy enough.

Just as this thought formed in his mind, he was surprised to find little Signý standing before him, looking very upset. Her chin quavered as she tried to find the words to speak to him. Scenting her despair, he went quickly down on one knee to her. "Little one, speak. What is wrong?"

"K'var! Ka is leaving us!" and with that the small pup broke into tearless wails of grief.

"I will not see any others," he ordered the attending aseigan. "Reassign them to other Healers. I must care for my pup."

He held his daughter, stroking her back until she had finished. "It is alright, Signý. You needed to get that out of yourself. Now, can you tell me more about this?"

She nodded her head, "She told me that she misses her home back on the Blue Planet. She told me that she was sorry, that she loved me and that…that…she didn't ask for this and she would tell me more when I am older. Do you know what she is talking about, K'var?"

"I do," he replied sadly. "Sit over here, my offspring. There is much that I can tell you now." Signý obediently sat herself where he Sire had directed, and Sig'dan sat across from her so he could judge her expression along with her scent. "Your Ka was born and lived on the Blue Planet for many years. It was, and still is, the custom of Hunters to go there and obtain a mate so that pups like you can be born. Do you know why we mate with alien females?

"Honorable Myn'dill told us in training that all of our race's females had died from a disease, and that we are the new females of Yaut."

"This is true, Signý. The sad part of this is that when we Hunters go to find an ooman mate, we search out one we like and we take her from her home without her consent. Do you know what that means?"

Signý thought carefully, "You take them without asking them if they want to go?"

"Correct! We take them, and impregnate them so that they will bear us a pup. Then they have the choice either to stay with us, or return home. Your Ka has chosen to return home. It is her right, Signý."

"I don't understand. Why don't you just impress the females? They will want to come with you then, won't they?"

"That is a worthy idea, my Bloodline, but ooman females hardly ever would want to come with us of their own accord." He stopped, assessing how the information was soaking in.

"Why not? Don't you show them your trophies?"

"No, the ooman females' culture is very different from our own. Trophies scare them…and besides that…nearly all the oomans' think we are very ugly."

"WHAT? The Matriarch is ooman and she was very pleased with our trophy. And she doesn't think we are ugly. Ka admired my trophy, and she loves me and…does she think I am ugly, K'var?" The small face before him was scrunched in pain that clawed at Sig'dan as painfully as if someone had struck him with a knife.

"Signý, look at me!" he commanded. "You are very, very beautiful. I think so, your Ka thinks so. But when you compare us to her, do you not see the differences?"

"I do, but…my Ka is beautiful and…and… my Trainer Theron said that I am as beautiful as she is…so was he really saying that I am ugly K'var? Do you think Ka is ugly?"

"No, Ka is beautiful to me and I have always thought so – ever since I first saw her. It was on the Blue Planet, I was hiding up in a great tall plant and she was down below with many others of her kind. It was night and they were gathered around a fire, singing before they went to their beds.

"All night long I waited as your Ka slept. Then, early the next cycle, she went for a run. I ran after her. She couldn't see me because of the cloaking device I wore. Somehow, she sensed that I was there and began to speak to me. I was enchanted with her, Signý, and I spoke back to her and then revealed myself."

"She was impressed, right?" the pup broke in.

"No, she was afraid. She screamed and ran from me, but was caught and taken to my ship against her will. There I impregnated her and brought her here. She has lived her next to the Matriarch since that time, and now she wants to go home. Can you blame her?"

Signý's body had betrayed tension as her Sire had told her of her Bearers capture. "No, I don't blame her. I think that if anyone is to blame…it is you!" she blazed at her Sire.

"That is correct, my offspring. I bear the blame. I did not realize the dishonor of what I had done until she was already pregnant with you, pup. I have apologized to her, looked out for her and cared about her since that time. There is nothing I can do to make up for the wrong I have done to her. But I try to look at what has been gained from this experience and that is you, Signý. You are here and now you are the center of my heart. I am sorry that your Bearer must leave us. But it is her choice and we must honor it. I will take you to visit her if she will allow it."

"She already told me that I could come to visit, but I believe that Theron is going to bring me."

"He IS?" Sig'dan's crown bristled but he managed to calm himself. "Someone will take you to see her. That is certain. Now do your best to make her happy before she leaves so that she will have good things to think about when she recalls you as a young pup!"

"I will do my very best, K'var! I will always do my best to make you and Ka proud of me."

"I know you will, little one," he rubbed her crown top fondly, wishing that he could somehow stop her maturation process right now and always keep her in this protected place of innocence. But he knew that was silly and immature on his part. His daughter would go on and honorably continue his Bloodline. For his part, he could only help her to focus on her training in order to complete Chiva, and encourage her to select only the worthiest Hunter's to Sire her pups. That was the way of the Yautja. The way it had always been.

Only out of necessity had he and his brother, along with most of male Yaut, deviated from that path. With no Yautja females in existence, they had turned to the only available genetics – the oomans. In that experience, the roles were reversed, with Hunter's having to seek out the best females and capture then, rather than seeking to attract the attention of a female and hope she would find him worthy.

In this contorted experience, Sig'dan had happened upon the formation of a relationship not just for breeding, but for enjoyment. Sally valued him not because he was the strongest Hunter who could Sire her the best pup, but simply for who he was. Their relationship was unlike anything he would ever experience again.

* * *

The underground camp was buzzing with activity as Kash'ta and his now large gathering of immature Hunters prepared to leave. Their plan was simple. It had to be simple to be effective. Kash'ta's charisma and appeal had convinced all of his following that Paya was on their side. They were charged with ridding the planet of the abomination of genetic engineering and beginning the new blessed race made of yet more hybrids like themselves. Certainly, science had assisted in their growth and creation, but only to enhance what already existed, not to splice away the humanity present in the hybridization and play Paya with the outcome. Science had gone too far in the formation of the new Yautja females.

This reasoning played to a sympathetic crowd of newly joined young hybrids who had begun to experience the unfortunate outcome of the growth of Sally's children. With 'real' Yautja females to eventually breed with, their hybrid sons had suddenly become of little worth to many. Their further development was neglected and they were cast aside in favor of the opportunity to breed 'true' offspring to carry on the Bloodline.

Full of righteous indignation, the large assortment of hybrid Yautja were ready to follow Kash'ta into battle, convinced beforehand of certain victory. They were on the side of right! How could Paya not assure the outcome? So the brashly ignorant leader took his army from the hidden camp and divided them into many small groups. They would trek through the jungle in this manner and regroup at a point near the city. Many smaller groups should be harder to track, Kash'ta had reasoned. Even cloaked, their number was large enough to cause notice if they tried to move as a single group. If they encountered any Hunters in their journey, they were under strict orders to hide from them until they passed. Kash'ta did not want to chance any signal of alarm being sent to the city.

To care for the females and pups left behind, he ordered his trusted second Kylfa and the Healer to remain. He had coached them that should his forces not return, the safety and future impregnation of all the females would be theirs. They were to remain hidden in the ruins, deep underground, until their numbers might become sufficient to mount an opposing force to the city.

When the Leader and all the Hunters had departed, Kylfa and the Healer looked at each other. The Healer spoke first, "I will be leaving here immediately. Our Leader and his legions are as good as dead. They will not survive this ill-conceived venture. There is no honor to be gained by staying here, Kylfa. But I will not have you accompany me, you are clumsy and stupid, and I do not trust you to have my back. The only reason that you are Second is through your fawning clicks to Kash'ta and his idiocy in believing your flattery."

Kylfa was dumbstruck at this revelation. "Have you no honor? Our mates and their pups require defense and food. We are their survival! What if one of our mates or her pup becomes ill? We must have a Healer!" He spoke to the departing back of the Healer, who cloaked and was immediately lost in the surrounding jungle.

Despondent Kylfa turned to the group of females and their pups. Many of them, including Duncan, had watched the departing Hunters closely and had tuned-in to the verbal altercation between Kylfa and the Healer. Now Duncan realized that this Hunter was alone - alone with a small group of women and their babies. This was the opportunity, no matter how ill-timed, that she had been waiting for. She went about the rest of her day as normally as possible. Feeding her child, helping tend the others, gathering fruit and nut-fall near the pyramid's entrance were her normal activities. Toward evening, when the lone Hunter sat to eat his meal, she pulled his small mate away from the rest of the group.

"This is my chance but I need your help!" she whispered.

"Your chance to do what?" asked the blonde.

"Take him out," she showed her accomplice the hidden blade.

"Oh my God! Do you think you can do it? What if you just piss him off?"

"I can do it, but only with your help," hissed Duncan. "Are you well healed since having your baby?"

"Yea, I guess so. What in hell is your plan?"

"I need you to seduce him. I need him so focused on fucking you that he won't realize I'm behind him."

"But I don't want to get knocked up again! I just barely had this monster!"

"I know, none of us do – but this is the only plan I can think of. I'll do my best to get him before he comes. I promise! Will you do this – for all of us?"

"Well, after he's dead, then what? It's not like we can hitch a ride home," the smaller woman asked earnestly.

"No, but at least we can live here, hidden away. And they won't be around to screw us and knock us up anymore!"

The petite blonde shook her head yes, "I'll do it, but damn it – you better stick him good! I'll not try and defend you if all you do is piss him off."

"Agreed," answered Duncan, tossing her red locks impatiently. "Go strut your stuff or do whatever it takes to get his interest. I'll be watching. And leave your kid here, he's sleeping and I don't want him in the way. He might get hurt."

After securing her child, the slight woman casually walked over to the dining Hunter. She knew better than to try and interrupt his meal, but sat herself seductively across from him on the ground, parting her long loincloth to fully expose one supple thigh. The Hunter kept on tearing raw meat from a bone and conveying it to his toothy yap. He eyed her as she sat, but did not cease his feeding.

Noticing that he had no water, the blonde got up and fetched him a crude cup from the steady drip of the spring that fed a flow through the structure's decay. He eyed her suspiciously as she presented the cup, then took it from her and loudly quaffed the water. She boldly sat on a boulder near him, posturing to present her figure. The women had learned that the Hunters' possessed an acute sense of smell, so the mate of Kylfa closed her eyes and tried to conjure up images of human men from all the sexy movie scenes she could remember. After a time, she heard the clack of a meat-barren bone hitting the rocky ground below them along with the distinct sound of huffing. She left her imaginings and dared to look the Hunter in the eye.

He sat near her, open jawed and taking in her beguiling scent, his eyes half lidded as he savored her. When her bold eyes gripped his, the invitation was clear, and he jumped upon her, growling his lust. "Female, you have not enticed me before. Do you long to feel me parting you once more? Have I aroused what was dormant within you?"

"Yes, yes," she play-acted for him. Rubbing her body up against his, "you drive me crazy with want! I've never felt anyone like you and I want more!"

Quickly ripping off his cloth, Kylfa seized his growing member and rubbed it against the woman, who tried not to blanch at the size of it. She had been taken from behind before, and had not witnessed the ample instrument that had violated her. From the discomfort, she had assumed it was large – but now to see it nearly made her faint. _This better be worth it Duncan, or I'll kill you myself!_ She ground her hips, pressing back against the throbbing Hunter.

Growling impatiently, he ripped aside his mate's covering, "Easy, easy," she guided him, "If you make me ready, I assure you I'll give you the best time you've ever had!"

The Hunter stopped, unused to direction from her. He should have been suspicious of the entire event, but his mind was overrun with the chemicals of procreation. His lust wanted this female who had appealed so greatly to his ego. He would give her something to feel – and he would not be gentle about it! But she had promised him an even greater experience! His hands shaking with arousal, the Hunter moved his face down to where her scent was strongest. The length of his tongue would make her scream his name, he vowed.

As his warm, slippery tongue began to lap at her, Duncan slipped her hidden knife into her right hand. Slowly, she began to move toward the massive muscles that were crouched down, with the face now nearly buried in the blonde's flesh. Kyla drank of the wanton female's juices that flowed from her opening onto his long penetrating tongue. He heard her moans of pleasure and felt her moist warmth try to embed his face within her. Duncan crept ever closer, each step an exercise in agony as she fought to quell the fear mounting inside her. But with the fear came adrenaline, powering through her body and turning her into a goddess of steel.

Suddenly, the Hunter lifted his face. He quickly turned the woman over and pulled her hips up to meet his thrusts. Without care for her, his careless jabs punished as he sought her entrance. She groaned and grunted in time with him and then caught her breath as he forced himself within her. Duncan had frozen when the Yautja had ceased his oral play. Caught in the paralysis of horror, she waited for him to turn around and see her. Instead, when he began his clumsy fuck, she nearly let go an audible sigh of relief. Still managing silence, she crept closer to the now hunched over figure. His body was higher than before; it would be more difficult to pile her weight behind the blow.

As if Paya herself had heard the dismay in Duncan's mind, the Hunter suddenly flattened the female upon the ground, muttering to her in English, "I have heard of something I want to try." Withdrawing from her vagina, it became clear to Duncan that he was going to penetrate the prostrate woman anally. Mentally suppressing a roar, Kylfa's assassin carefully spotted the dent on his moving back, between his ribs, that was her target. The red-head's body coiled like a cobra and she sprung herself, knife first, at the grunting Hunter, whose wide penile head was just forcing through the ring of tight muscles. The face-down female screamed in pain as her opening succumbed to intrusion, Kylfa groaned in the amazing combination of pleasure and plain that was immediately his. The tight coil around his member was causing pleasure and a burning pain that strangely radiated up into his chest.

He surged forward only to find himself collapsed down upon the struggling woman, a searing pain in his heart and lungs. In silent hatred, Duncan pulled and plunged the sharp dagger over and over again skewering the Hunter's lungs. Air whistled out of the open slits, bubbling green blood which ran down the Hunter's back. Kylfa gasped and gasped for breath as the number of burning places increased and his member deflated as surely as the air that quit his now multiply perforated lungs.

Slowly, he rolled to his side and used his arms to help him make a stand. His now forgotten rut interest lay motionless on the ground, her body broken by his fall. He waved back and forth, trying to keep his balance and trying to focus on the furious figure before him. "I hope it hurts like hell, you motherfucker!"

It was that troublesome red-locked female of Kash'ta's! He would tell his Leader of her trespass upon his return, and Kylfa would laugh at her punishment! He chortled as he thought of what her penalty might be, and found frothy blood in his mouth. He spat, and coughed, as a river of blood broke over his fangs. _Pauk-de female! I'm going to skin her alive, and then fuck her to death! _He took one step toward Duncan, who stepped back, still in her crouch. Kylfa's world went down to a simple pinpoint of light and then disappeared as he fell face-forward in a great limp flop.

Still silent, Duncan leaped onto his back and pulled up his head by a handful of locks. Reaching around with the knife, she severed his neck arteries and watched the green pool form, fed by his open mouth and weeping neck. "There, you fucker," she said with a finality. "You won't stick your dick in any of us, anymore."

She walked over to the lifeless form of the small blonde and knelt by her, checking the carotid pulse underneath the neck just to be sure. The scraggle of blonde hair lay spread out over the back of her unmoving head. Duncan's fingertips detected no heartbeat. She gently turned over the corpse to reveal the face broken and caved-in from the Hunter's fall. _I'm sorry. I'm sorry you didn't live to see this fucker die! But I'm glad you're outta here. We'll take care of your baby. _Duncan wiped the verdant stain from her blade. Later, she and the rest of the women would drag the bodies to a remote section of the caves underneath the ancient fallen pyramid. She prayed to whatever Gods might exist that they could finally be safe here, at least safe enough to raise their children in peace. She had no fantasy regarding their rescue or their ability to find escape from this alien place.


	25. Fear No Evil

**Chapter 24: Fear No Evil**

"_**It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog." – Mark Twain**_

Aldúlfr clicked in satisfaction as he switched off his com. His thick taloned fingers itched with the thought of slicing open the skin of the suspect Hunter that he would be questioning soon. He knew the sensitive tender places that could be slowly raked through until the blood seeped from the abused flesh. The places where a bundle of nerves clustered just under the skin, unprotected from the fine razor of his foretalon. And if the questioned one was able to bare such exquisite pain and not talk – well, there were at least a dozen other ways.

One of his best Arbitrator teams had intercepted a YoungBlood Healer exiting the jungle at the seam where the tended croplands abutted the wild growing plants. He had attempted escape but had been easily captured by the well-trained enforcers of the law. Per orders, the team contacted their Elder to find out what should be done with the presumed BadBlood. An innocent Hunter would not have run.

* * *

Three black-armored Arbitrators roughly shoved the cowering Healer into the small room reserved for transporting the guilty. Elder Elite Arbitrator Aldúlfr had ordered they bring in the dirty, disheveled Yautja for questioning. Aldúlfr wanted answers, and the Healer would no doubt provide them before he was permitted to die. After subduing their prisoner, he was searched for weapons, or anything that could be used as a weapon. They did not want their captive dispatching himself before they reached Yaut and the Elder Arbitrator. It had been done by detainees in the past, much to the dishonor and embarrassment of the Arbitrators who held him. It would not happen this time – the Healer was not only searched, but stripped of every scrap of metal and cloth. Even his lock rings were taken, leaving the all-but-convicted Hunter alone in the dark cell with only wretchedness and desolation for company.

* * *

To Melanie's disgust, Aldúlfr had continued catching wild beasts and releasing them inside the Matriarch's dwelling, then summoning his 'Arbitrators' in Training' and sending them on a mission to kill it. Over time, more and more of the group braved being the slayer until all were aggressively approaching the cornered 'BadBlood' eager to be chosen to dispatch it and claim the trophy for the team. Slowly, the pups required less and less help in cornering their quarry and executing it.

Just now, the pups were being 'encouraged' to clean up the substantial mess they had made searching through the larder on the latest mission appointed by the Consort. They had finally succeeded in flushing the beast and followed it huffing and growling as it fled for its life from the kitchen. The wily creature had climbed a wall, making it out an open window and across the street to safety. The pups howled for permission to leave the house and continue the pursuit, but Sally would not let them. The Consort had previously ordered them to stay within the dwelling for the time being, as some sort of danger was afoot. The dissatisfied pups begged and whined, but the Matriarch was not moved. Instead she led them back to the larder to survey the mess.

"I understand that you were following the Elite Arbitrator's orders," she observed, "but you must also take responsibility for the disarray your searching caused. All of you work as a team and put things back in their proper place." The pups looked begrudgingly at the mess, and then back to Sally. "NOW!" she commanded them, ending the word with her version of a rolling growl. The reluctant daughters hopped into action, not caring to try her further. She might be small, compared to even the shortest Hunter, but she possessed a mighty will as well as the backing of Aldúlfr, Sig'dan, Theron and all the other Yautja in the pups' lives.

"When are we going to go back to the Training Camp," asked one of the younglings to the rest of the group as they picked up carelessly strewn supplies and put them neatly back upon the shelves.

"When the mystery is solved," answered Arndís.

"Mystery? What mystery," several of the others queried.

Arndís relished being in the know, she often paid attention when her Elders were speaking among themselves and tried to comprehend what they were talking about. She also frequently questioned the adults about what she had heard, and so naturally knew more about the outside world than her sisters. "I will tell you when we have finished straightening this room, as the Matriarch requested," she informed the group.

Ulfrde said nothing, not surprised that her full sister knew something that she and the others did not. Her taller sister was smart, especially in the use of words and she was keenly aware of rank and position among the adults – something Ulfrde generally ignored. Adults were adults in her mind, sometimes prone to secretive ways and forever telling all the pups what to do.

Sig'ney had scrambled to the top shelves and was putting away items as they were handed up to her, stopping to huff appreciatively at a container of delectably preserved, yet unidentifiable, small animal parts. When the room was once again in proper order, the pups reported their tasks completed to the Matriarch and then surrounded Arndís demanding to know more about said mystery.

"Not here," she commanded, looking around suspiciously.

Ulfrde rolled her eyes at the drama. Arndís was spectacular at creating intrigue and the sense that she was taking you into her confidence, telling you what no one else knew.

"Let's go to our room, we can speak privately there."

All the growing female pups followed her into their sleeping room. Signý followed also, although her sleeping room was back in her Bearer's apartment. An extra bed had been set up here in case she wanted to take a mid-day nap or stay overnight. Inside the communal bedroom, Arndís motioned for all to take seats around her. Her eager audience plopped down at once, "Come on, Arndís, tell us about the mystery!"

"I have heard the adults speaking. There may be a group of BadBloods here on Yaut!"

All the small females raised their eye ridges and opened their mandibles in surprise. "Are we and our home in any danger?"

"I do not know yet," Arndís answered truthfully.

"The Honorable Elder Elite Arbitrator Aldúlfr has sent out a great many of his Arbitrators searching the jungle. Apparently, a stolen ship crashed trying to land. I think he is worried that the BadBloods were onboard and may have survived."

Ulfrde jumped to her feet, "We must prepare to defend ourselves and our family!" The others clicked their agreement with her statement.

Signý questioned her larger sister, "What can we do? We are merely pups, not even big enough to attend our Chiva."

"But we are Young Pup Arbitrators-in-Training, are we not?" Ulfrde challenged back. "It is our duty to prepare a defense in case this dwelling is attacked!"

All the locked heads nodded agreement, they must face their duty. Soon the pups were engaged in creating a plan of action should the need arise. They discussed how to obtain, or make, weapons and where to cache them. Then the little ones discussed how to keep their plan and weapons secret in case any of the adults disapproved. However, several of the females objected to deliberately hiding their activity. Finally they all compromised, they would not seek to deliberately inform any of the Hunters or their Bearers about their plans – unless purposefully asked. If asked, none would lie and their defensive strategy would come to light. It was a chance worth taking, they decided in all seriousness. If a threat materialized, they would be the home's last defense.

"We should create a bonding ceremony," Signý thought aloud. "My Ka told me of a bonding ceremony that she attending along with the Matriarch and others." So they thought up a proper ritual and then pledged their lives to each other on this mission in a pact overseen by Arndís and sealed by drinking from a communal cup of water. Ulfrde had attempted to obtain c'ntlip, but had been unable to sneak it from the kitchen, or the Consort's locked cabinet.

The cup was passed from pup to pup as they were seated in a circle, cross-legged on their sleeping room floor. Each pup raised the cup and said the recently-thought-up sacred words, "I pledge my body and my skill to protect our Matriarch, Melanee, Honorable Elite Elder Arbitrator Aldúlfr, Sig'dan, Theron, Myn'dill , all the House guards and all the House Aseigan, and my sisters. If I die protecting them, my honor will be great and a statue will be erected in the garden telling all of my sacrifice. Paya and Cetanu give us victory!" After speaking the oath, the pup took the cup in her mandibles and drank a swallow before passing it on to the next sister in the circle.

After all had pledged Arndís broke the group up into teams and appointed team leaders. To each team was given an assignment of planning defense strategy, obtaining weapons, finding a suitable place to cache the weapons, or gathering more intelligence about the BadBloods. Arndís placed herself on the last team, as she possessed useful verbal skills. Then the younglings got to work.

Sally and Mel had noticed that the girls had suddenly become very adept at keeping themselves entertained. When not in the daily lessons, they scurried about in small groups engaged in some sort of game. "They're growing fast," observed Melanie.

"They certainly are," agreed Sally. "I'll be glad when they are able to resume Training Camp. I hope they aren't getting too behind in their lessons by just studying here at the house."

"Well, I know that Theron is going to begin instructing them in hand-to-hand combat – already! Can you believe that?"

"It is a crucial lesson, Mel. Sig'dan has told me about his training, and I've been to the camps before to watch the male pups in class. They must learn a great deal about balancing themselves and do strengthening and agility exercises before they learn the actual spar."

"Well, I for one am not looking forward to seeing Signý come home with bruises and blood on her body! Makes me sick just to think about it."

"They heal fast Mel, must faster than we do. The bumps and bruises are just part of the learning – you know like we got scraped up as kids learning to ride our bikes and such."

"I plan on being out of here before much, if any, of that happens. I've talked with Signý, Sally. She is not happy about it, of course, but I think she'll handle it. She has you, Sig-dan and all her sisters, and the rest of the Hunters. And Theron's going to bring her to see me once in a while so we don't lose touch."

"I'm glad you are going to see her as she grows. So Theron is bringing her? What's up with that?" Sally asked casually, "I figured her father would want to bring her."

"He probably does, but since all of this is really his fault – I think it would be really uncomfortable to have him around while Signý and I are trying to visit. I'd just rather have Theron do it."

Sally said nothing, and then changed the subject. "I've decided to have everyone in our Bond group over tomorrow evening for dinner. Would you like to come? The pups are joining us for their first real adult dining experience. I thought it would be fun! We have to have entertainment – would you tell the girls one of your great stories? I know they'd love it, and I think the Hunters would find it interesting also."

"I'd be delighted! I've been working on a Yautja version of 'Snow White' that I think will please them."

"Wonderful! I'm looking forward to hearing it myself!"

"Well, I'm going to go with Sig'dan to the market, Mel, and get provisions for a great meal tomorrow. Anything especially tempt your taste buds?"

"I really like those steaks the Healers brought back from Earth for you. Any of those left?"

"Sorry, all gone. How about some Rynth? It's the nearest thing to beef I've tasted here."

Disappointed at the vanished steaks, Mel hid her feelings and replied, "Sure. That would be great."

"Want to come to the market with us?" Sally invited.

"Nah. I feel like pulling some weeds."

"I don't know how the garden will manage after you return to Earth," Sally smiled sadly at Mel's departing figure.

* * *

The dinner began with the usual Yautja formality, as all the guests waited until the Matriarch signaled them to begin. The adults were seated at a large banquet table. The pups were at their own pup-sized rectangular dining table. It was the first time they had been invited to the Blood Bonded's gathering as well as the first formal dinner they had attended. Myn'dill had lectured them at length about proper manners – who they should greet first and how, and the proper order of meeting the ranked Hunters and females. Since they were only pups, a proper shoulder shake was impossible with an adult, so an extended arm along with the lowered head and eyes of submission was the correct way to greet friends of their Sire and Bearer who were not relatives. For their family, the sign of submission was the only requirement.

They were not to approach or demand attention from the dining adults unless invited. They were to simply eat and have conversation among themselves. Having not yet learned to spar, there were to be no substantial arguments among them during the evening. After the meal, there would be entertainment. They were to observe it quietly, unless otherwise directed by an adult. When their Bearer finally ordered them to bed, they were to leave immediately without any challenge.

The Aseigan entered with the large platters of food and served the Bearers first, then the Hunters and lastly the pups. Everyone watched Sally pick up her fork and use it to separate a bite-sized chunk of tender meat, spear it with the utensil and bring it to her mouth. The pups began to click eagerly as she started to chew and the feast was signaled to begin. The clicks stopped short when the Consort shot them a glare for their questionable behavior. Then all began to dine and the room fell somewhat silent as conversation was replaced with the sounds of eating.

Mel was dreaming of French fries and hot dogs, but began to cut and eat her foreign filet. _It's not bad_, she decided and looked over at Theron who was ratcheting a raw strip into his maw. _I'll never get used to seeing them eat – no matter how many times I watch it! _Her face suddenly flushed as he gave her a nod and she realized she'd been staring at him. He seemed not to notice her discomfort and continued devouring his meal.

The pups were trying very hard to remember everything Myn'dill had taught them and exhibit their best manners. He was keeping an eye on them and raised a brow ridge every now and then, which was sufficient to keep them in line. There was a small fuss when one of the pups tipped over her water cup and made a mess on the table. She appeared mortified, but it had been an accident. A head nod from the Healer reassured her that she was still in his good graces, while an Aseigan quickly mopped up the spill and the repast continued.

When the meal had ended, the Hunters pushed back their chairs and ordered another round of c'ntlip. The pups watched in fascination as the adult males nursed their drinks, giving an occasional belch. Whenever the rumble of gastric release occurred, the little females would chitter in contained entertainment. Belches were funny. Especially when they came from the grown Hunters that usually presented themselves with substantial decorum to the pups.

Suddenly a tremendous 'brrrraaaaap' resounded from the pups' table. All heads turned to the group of young Saviors of the Yautja who each sat in great innocence and looked back at the adults as if to say, "What?"

"Who emitted that belch?" demanded the Consort. "Stand and declare yourself – whoever did it!"

The young females looked at each other nervously, all the Hunters were belching, how could one belch from a pup be singled out? Reluctantly, Ulfrde stood. "It was I, Honorable Elite Elder Arbitrator." She looked at the floor in submission to him. Then bravely she asked, "Have I committed an offense?"

"No!" he chortled, "I only wished to congratulate you and declare you the after dinner victor at making digestive noises!" Everyone broke into laughter, including Ulfrde.

"Now, everyone," commanded Sally when the clicks, chortles and snickering had died down." I have asked Honorable Melanie to bring this evening's entertainment. She is going to tell us all an Earth fable. Theron, will you translate for the Hunters? Pups, gather around Honorable Melanie on the floor."

Theron stood where he could hear Mel and relate her words to the Yautja. The bilingual red as young females hurried and made a semi-circle at the story-teller's feet, anxious to absorb another Blue Planet tale. Melanie cleared her throat, looked around at the Hunters a bit nervously, then at the pups and began, "This story is called Snow White and the Seven Eta. Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful human Matriarch who was mated to an Honorable human Consort. It was the cold season and on Earth in that season sometimes frozen crystals of water fall from the sky. It is very white and called 'snow'. Well, there was snow collected outside on the ground. The beautiful Bearer was outside sharpening her knife and accidentally nicked her finger. Three drops of her blood fell on the ground. As she looked at the blood, she wished to herself, "Oh, how I wish that I had a female pup that had skin white as snow, lips as red as my blood, and hair black as Cetanu". Well, my girls, Paya was listening and decided to grant her wish! Soon after that, the Queen gave birth to a baby girl who has skin white as snow, lips as red as human blood, and hair black as Cetanu. The Bearer named her Snow White, and sadly, soon after giving birth, the Matriarch became ill and died."

Mel looked around at the pups for a moment and one questioning pup took advantage of the pause, "Honorable Melanee, if this is an Earth story, why is the Bearer called a Matriarch?"

"Oh, you are so smart!" exclaimed Mel, "On Earth she would be called a Queen, but I changed the story a little so you could relate to it better." All the girls nodded and Mel heard some grunts of approval from the Hunters, so she continued. She told them about the new Matriarch that was appointed and how she didn't like the female pup of the old Matriarch. In fact, the new Matriarch was jealous of her beauty! Mel told them of the magic mirror which told the wicked new Matriarch that the small pup was more beautiful than she was! In her anger, the Matriarch sent one of her best Hunters, along with the pup, into the jungle. His instructions were to kill Snow White, but she was so beautiful he couldn't. He told her to run and hide in the deepest part of the jungle. Then he killed a wild animal and took its heart back to the Matriarch, saying it was the heart of Snow White to prove that he had killed her.

The pups and even the Hunters were all in deep concentration as Mel wove her story. She told them how the female had wandered the jungle trying to find food and water and had run across a group of Eta living in the jungle. These Eta were no ordinary slaves. They were very, very short in stature and that is why they had become Eta – they were far too small to become Hunters. Their master had died honorably in battle, and so the Eta moved to the jungle. They lived in a dwelling they made themselves and every day left it to go work in a large mine they were digging. From the ground they mined for precious metal and stones. They would often sing as they went to work.

Mel related how they had pity on the beautiful young female and took her in, fed her and took care of her. In return she took care of their dwelling and made food for them so that when they returned from work in the evening they could rest and enjoy a meal. Life was very good for all of them and over time, Snow White grew into an adult.

"One day, the Wicked Matriarch consulted with her magic mirror only to find out that Snow White still lived. The Wicked Matriarch found out where in the jungle Snow White dwelled with her Eta, so she disguised herself as an old female vendor and went to the door of the dwelling where Snow White lived while the Eta were away at work. She sold her some Naxa. Unknown to the trusting Snow White, the Naxa had been filled with poison by the Matriarch! Snow White took a bite and fell to the ground unconscious."

Mel's audience now looked very concerned. "How dishonorable!" said Arndís. Several huffs of anxiety had sounded from the pups upon hearing of the poisoning of the heroine, and even one or two of the Hunter's had furrowed their brow. After every sentence, Mel paused to let Theron translate. It was distracting, but she managed to keep track of her story and keep her audience enthralled.

Then Mel told them how the Eta placed Snow White on an altar in a clear box so that all could see her beauty. Inside the box she did not decay, even though the Eta believed her to be dead. One day a strong Elite Hunter was walking through the jungle and found the body of Snow White lying inside her clear box. He was so moved by her beauty that he opened the box and took her out. When he lifted her the piece of poison Naxa dislodged and fell from her mouth. Freed of the poison, she awakened and saw the impressive Elite Hunter. They were so taken with each other that they became mates, and the Hunter escorted Snow White back to the city and accused the Matriarch of trying to murder the female. The Arbitrators were summoned and they obtained the Matriarch's confession. For her punishment she was made into an Eta and banished from the city.

"And the Hunter and Snow White lived happily ever after and Snow White bore the Hunter many excellent pups. The end." Mel looked around the room. Slowly the Hunters began to nod, and then rapped their talons on the tabletop to signal approval of her story. The pups jumped up and proceeded to give her hugs and shoulder shakes. Sally clapped and grinned at her friend, then, as in slow-motion, she toppled forward with her chair as the whole house shook and thick dust from falling stone blocks streamed through the hallways.

* * *

Kash'ta's plan was simple and low-tech. So simple that it stood a chance of working. He and his followers gathered at the edge of the jungle by the road that led to the city. Here the ranks of cart-pulling Eta passed late every afternoon bringing their large harvest carts full of nuts back to the populace's larders. Some of the carts were marked with the insignia of the Matriarch's house. These stores were for her personal use to feed her household and entertain her many guests. It required many carts of nuts to supply her household until the next long cycle harvest arrived. The Eta and their Aseigan masters were out in masses this time of the long cycle, seeking to gather as many nuts as possible before the jungle creatures took them all.

The Matriarch's House was allowed the first gleaning, so her carts were always the first ones to take to the road in the afternoon, lugging their haul back to the storage larders adjacent to and underneath her apartments. It would be some time before the other carts were full and make their trek back to the city. So, the approaching convoy of nuts was alone – alone and unguarded. Who would think to guard the jungles generous supply of food from anyone?

As the Matriarch's carts rolled into view, Kash'ta's Hunters readied. When the first cart creaked in front of them, the Eta pushing all their might into the yokes, and an Aseigan walking along beside them, whip in hand, the signal was given. Without a sound the BadBloods descended dispatching the servants and slaves in bloodless slaughter so as to leave no trace behind.

They removed the bodies from the cart traces, stripped the Eta of their rags, and Aseigan of their cloth. Then shucking their own wear, they redressed themselves as Eta and Aseigan, and then rubbed dirt on their bodies as if they had been working in the jungle all day. The bodies were dragged into the thick greenery and dissolved so that no scent would remain. Then the carts were dragged off the road and tilted to roll out the contents. Scores of young Hunters dived into the nut piles and rolled, seeking to cover their scents. The newly harvested and manually shucked plant kernels carried a fragrant scent of their own until the shells dried. The jungle delicacy grew a thick green tough covering to protect it from the elements until conditions were favorable for it to sprout.

When the Hunters had finished rolling, they climbed into the carts and hunkered down as their brethren showered them with scooped handfuls of nuts until they were buried under a heap. In this way, each cart carried several Yautja which made for an extremely heavy burden for those designated to play the assignment of Eta. Kash'ta had selected his strongest for that part, with himself playing the role of head Aseigan.

With a growl, the newly christened Eta plunged into their yokes and with grunts began the journey to town. They would pull up at the Matriarch's residents with none the wiser that they were counterfeit servants and slaves, hiding revenge and death beneath their harvest. The carts creaked under their considerable load, but stayed solid as the long line snaked towards the city. The hidden YoungBloods crouched uncomfortably inside the carts, while their covering began to make their backs itch.

The caravan passed the sentry posts on the main roadway into the city without drawing anything but the merest glance from the Guards standing atop the small pyramidal gate posts. All the carts passed under the overstretching arms of the entrance arches with only sound being the creak of the carts, and heavy step of burdened Eta feet accompanied by grunts of effort to pull the heavy loads.

They went down the main avenue, drawing a few glances from traders and other Yautja going about their business. No one scented anything unusual, no one raised an alarm. The train of carts made a turn and crawled down the street to the Matriarch's residence. Kash'ta tried to stay casual, as his eyes never rested from evaluating those they passed. Every dark alley was evaluated as a possible pathway should they be challenged. Every approaching Hunter was quietly huffed at to see if he was suspicious of the cadre of workers. Sweat ran freely under his locks and down his the back of his neck. Nerve wracked, every step Kash'ta took seemed in slow motion as the path to the Matriarch's seemed to stretch out endlessly before him.

In due time, they reached the entrance to the Matriarch's underground larder. They had passed what appeared to be two High Council Guards at the residence front entrance, but there were none at the basement passage. Kash'ta pulled open the heavy doors and the carts rumbled in. In the darkness beneath the house the raiders abandoned their carts. Several quickly located the door to the food galley up above and planted small explosives at the locked door. Taking cover at the other end of the large space, they ducked behind the carts and waited for the detonation.

As soon as the dwelling shook, every snarling Hunter was on his feet, weapons drawn. Sally jumped up and grabbed onto Mel, screaming, "Girls! Get behind us! Now!" The pups scented the women's terror and obediently clustered behind them, their backs to a windowless interior wall. The Hunters formed a semi-circle around them, searching through the dust for movement or heat. A blast from a shoulder cannon hit Yin, felling him like a giant redwood. No one could aid him as all were still searching for the attacker. "They're cloaked," roared the Consort ready to give his right arm for a mask. This was a social occasion, and while Hunters were always armed, no masks had been worn for the evening.

Behind her mother, Ulfrde was crawling along on the ground, hoping to escape notice. Here in the Dining Hall, she and the others had made one of their caches. They had carefully removed the serving dishes from a low storage shelf and hidden their supplies at the back, replacing the dishes in front. Creeping slowly, the young female made her way to the storage area. She sat up in front of the open shelf and using her hands behind her began to pull out the dishes, one by one and place them beside her.

The Hunters were taking cover as best they could behind overturned tables. One table had been shoved in front of Sally and Mel, the pups were crowded in behind them. No one could move while the cannon fire kept them pinned down. Mentally calculating the angle of the blue fire, Aldúlfr raised up with amazing speed, throwing a multi-bladed weapon which spun through the air faster than the eye could see. A cry of pain was heard as the blade sunk into the chest of the cannon operator, bright green blood spurted forth as the shorted cloaking sputtered and the now visible dead form dropped to the ground.

Myn'dill gave Aldúlfr a clasp on his shoulder. Suddenly, Theron broke from the group, running in a zig-zag, rolling and then bouncing up again. His speed and random motion made him a very hard target. "He's going for the weapon," muttered Sig'dan from behind a table top. Theron made a twisting slide past the cannon, grabbing it as he sailed by and then bobbed up and leapt behind a column just as blue lightning struck the spot he'd vacated only a second ago. Whirling around, he laid down a thick pattern of blue all over that side of the room. When he stopped, two more bodies lay on the ground.

Ulfrde had silently removed all the dishes and obtained the cache. She held the cloth strap of the bundle between clenched mandibles as she bellied back to her sisters, almost forgetting to breathe in her stealth. Quickly she opened the satchel and distributed the blades to her siblings while Sally and Mel still had their backs to the girls, horrorstruck at the battle before them.

A war cry bellowed through the dwelling as a swarm of Kash'ta's uncloaked Hunters raced into the room immediately engaging the defenders. Theron had only gotten a few cannon shots off before he was engaged hand to hand with four Hunters. The others were similarly attacked and outnumbered. As the fighters spread out, Sally and Mel backed up against their pups with the wall behind them. "Mel, we are gonna have to fight. Look for a weapon," Sally ordered grimly, "I'm not going down without trying to save my girls."

Suddenly, a knife handle was thrust into her hand. Sally looked down at Arndís, "We will fight, Ka," her daughter said. The Matriarch realized that all the pups were armed and beginning to creep around them.

"Get back!" she ordered them, "back behind us."

"No, Ka," Ulfrde said calmly, "We defend our Bearers and our Matriarch."

The little ones piled out in front of their human mothers, shoving them back behind.

"When did they get so strong?" wondered Mel aloud. She also had a knife in hand, and held it so tightly her nails cut into her palm. The small Earth woman readied herself to kill for the children.

A BadBlood bounded up to the bristling group of pups, laughing in their faces. His humor didn't last long, as with a screech the little ones were upon him, slashing at his legs. He quickly found himself hamstrung and went down growling in amazement and anger. As soon as he hit the floor, a group of the larger girls threw themselves on him, stabbing and screaming. One of them winced as his knife slashed her leg. He did not fight long as Ulfrde's blade found his throat beneath his mask. She ripped his mask off and screamed "K'var!"

The Consort was running up the wall and flipping bodily over, taking two heads with him when he heard the small voice shout. He knew it was Ulfrde. Glancing her way he saw a sight that made an Arbitrator's heart sing – his own pup standing over a dead Hunter, his mask in her hands. She threw the mask to him. It spun through the room and was grasped by the Elder just as he completed his flip and landed on the floor. Smacking it to his face he quickly finished off two other attackers and surveyed the room, finding more cloaked figures hiding behind supporting pillars. _Pauk'de cowards! They are cloaked yet they hide and let these uncloaked ones attack us and die. _He caught Sig'dan's eye and signaled to pair up with him. His hybrid offspring had just mortally wounded an attacker and caught the head of another, breaking his neck in a flash. He bounded over to his Sire and followed his lead, knowing Aldúlfr was utilizing the mask to locate unseen BadBloods.

While the Hunters were all engaged, another BadBlood was targeting the pups and women. He grabbed a little one and held her upside down by the ankle, his face spread in full aggression. The surprise was his as the living package he held swung her body toward him and plunged her knife into his stomach. Screaming out his basso agony, he whipped the pup overhead and threw her into the wall. She went limp and slid down the stacked stones a river of green easing her passage. With wails of fury, her sisters set upon him, slashing him even before he let her go. He went down beneath their ferocity, with first his calves and then his arms and face becoming an unrecognizable mass of ribbons. A few other pups received some cuts, but none were mortal. As he ceased moving, some of the pups ran to aid their sister who sat on the floor, her back resting on the wet wall.

Another BadBlood had cornered Melanie, chortling at her fear. His glee turned to a roar as a knife pierced the inside of his thigh from below and opened his femoral artery. He looked down, seeing nothing as Signý ran out from underneath and hid behind him. Around he whirled on his unruptured leg and still found nothing as she kept behind him. Another flick from below freed the blood from his other leg. He quickly bent over and grabbed the flapping loincloth of the fleeing pup, pulling her out between his legs and up in the air. "A pauk-de pup!" he growled in disbelief. He turned her dangling body to face him and was greeted with a slash to the face which cut a diagonal slice from his eye downward. Yowling his pain, he stabbed out with his other hand to rake her with his deadly talons, but Mel snatched her daughter up, releasing her clothing as she tore the youngling from the BadBloods grasp. The momentarily confused Hunter was left with only an empty cloth. Mel screamed at the murderous Hunter and slashed her knife at him. He growled and, still bleeding out from his thighs, grabbed her by the throat, lifting her up choking and sputtering. She dropped Signý who immediately got under the Hunter again and stabbed up into his most private area. Howling in agony, he twisted his body bringing his legs together, trapping the brave pup between them. Though weak from blood loss, he was still stronger than Mel and the pup put together. Slowly, he began to squeeze his legs, pressing the life out of Signý. "Stop! Stop! Your killing her!" screamed Mel, her voice only a choking whisper as his hand closed even more around her neck. _No! No! No! _Mel's mind commanded. _This can't be! I have to save Signý!_

Abruptly, the pressure on her neck ceased and her body rapidly found the ground. Landing on her back, she hurriedly rolled over to see the BadBlood dead lying beside her and Theron prying her daughter from between his bloody legs. Theron's blade point was sticking from the murderer's chest. Signý was freed and placed in Mel's arms as Theron rushed back to aid his fellows.

Mel watched him in awe, a living blur dealing out death as he cut down body after body in cool calculated rage. He was a killing machine working perfectly, flawlessly. His muscles gleamed with the sheen of sweat and rippled down his length as he methodically massacred his attackers.

Aldúlfr had sent out an emergency signal from his wrist com the moment they were attacked. A bevy of High Council guards and on-world Arbitrators were about to burst in on the battle. The rushing guards began taking out BadBloods down beneath the building, still lined up trying to join the fight upstairs, while the Arbitrators entered through the main door and efficiently hacked their way through bodies to get to the Matriarch. Now completely outnumbered, the BadBloods were surrounded and cornered within the house.

The Arbitrators and Guards looked to the Consort who looked to Sally. Eloquently, she raised her arm and gave a thumb down to Aldúlfr, her stony face bearing not a trace of remorse. Without need for translation, the Elite Arbitrator growled to his troops who cut down the last of the YoungBloods in a matter of seconds.

When it was over, Sig'dan looked to the pups and their Bearers. Mel was holding Signý, running her hand down the youngling's locks and weeping onto her shoulder. Theron stood over them in silence. Looking over to find Sally, Sig'dan saw her and Myn'dill hovering over a pup at the base of the back wall with the other pups grouped to the side, looking the lowest he had ever seen them. He sprinted to the Healer and Sally.

"Sig'dan," Sally whispered as he beheld the lifeless pup, "it's Doru" She died fighting for us, there was nothing Myn'dill could do to bring her back. Such a brave, brave girl."

Sig'dan knelt down to the small still form, still sitting with her back to the wall and her eyes wide open. He looked to Myn'dill who only shook his head. "Such a waste of such a young brave life, but she died fearlessly in battle." he pronounced. "I will inform her Sire."

Sally grasped the Healer's arm, "Myn'dill, Yin is down! Over there!" She pointed across the room where Yang knelt beside his comrade and cradled the huge Hunter's head in his arms. Myn'dill was there in a flash, tending to the charred hole left by the energy blast. He spoke a few orders into his wrist. "You will need to be transported to my Medical Hall," he told the guard. "Your wounds are very serious."

"Will I recover fully?" asked the burley Hunter, containing his pain enough to speak.

"You will live, but your shoulder is burned through the bone. I may have to remove the arm," the Healer said honestly. "If I am able to preserve the arm, it will never be completely functional again. You will not be the Hunter you were."

Yin looked at his friend Yang, and then back the Healer, "Then I wish to die. I will not live unable to fulfill my duty as a Hunter and Guardian. It is better that I die in battle. Give me release, my Bonded Brother." He looked at Yang as he made his request, and the massive guard nodded in answer.

Myn'dill and Yang both helped Yin to his unsteady feet and handed him a blade. Yang tapped his shoulder and Yin managed a weak return. Together they assumed the position of spar and began to circle, the human women watching in the kind of growing dread that will not let you turn away from an appalling sight. The Hunters were also watching in quiet respect. The pups were glued to the fight in wonderment at the strength of horribly wounded Yin to go to his last battle willfully.

It was over in a flash. Yin made a shaky swipe and Yang was upon him, taking him to the ground and delivering the life-releasing cut in a single swift second. The victor shakily stood, and bent to touch his Hunt Brother's face with the back of his hand, then raised open mandibles to the sky, releasing a bellow of grief. Everyone nodded in great respect to the one who had chosen the night instead of continuing life at the expense of honor.

The incident made an indelible indention in the pups' minds. Honorable duty before life was sanctified as Yang had baptized his blade in his friend's lifeblood. The purity of Yautja honor, simple in its decisions and demanding in its discipline lay before them on the floor. Yin would be missed, but his greatness would serve as an example to all of a life well lived until the very end.

Sally's attention left the body of Yin and returned to the pup cradled in Sig'dan's arms. Numb with grief, her voice trembled, "What will you do with her?"

"She will be laid out in honor, next to Yin. All will come to pay their respects, and then we will give them both a warriors send-off. Even though Doru was not yet Chiva'd she has earned our highest honor. Her praises will be engraved in our Halls. She will never be forgotten and the story of the brave, untrained pup who sacrificed all in defense of her family and her Matriarch will be told as long as the Yautja exist."

Carefully, as though the pup were still alive, Sig'dan transferred her remains to a sad Myn'dill, who carried her to his station to wash and prepare the body for viewing. "Come Sal-lee," Sig'dan said gently, we need to select clean clothing for her." He felt the Matriarch's exhaustion and, not caring what anyone else thought, picked her up as though she were one of the pups and carried her to her quarters. The Consort did not even give him a token spread of his hefty mandibles.

Mel moved in to console and comfort the pups at the loss of their sister, but they stayed stalwart in front of the Hunters. "Let us go to your room," she suggested, and the little ones silently followed her. Once there, Mel called for the Aseigan to come and assist them in bathing and donning fresh clothing. Throughout the process the pups remained quiet, grieving for Doru. After the Aseigan had left, Mel suggested that they all lie down to rest while she went to check on the Matriarch. Obediently they took to their pallets, though sleep would come to none as each one turned over the flood of events that had deluged all their senses with so many things: anger, blood, fear, rage, horror, shock, and disbelief.

With a final caress of Signý's face, Mel went to Sally's quarters and signaled her presence on the com. The door opened and Sig'dan welcomed her inside where the Matriarch was in the middle of the room, on her knees, sobbing piteously. The woman rushed to her friend and knelt, surrounding her with arms of understanding and joined the weeping. Sig'dan stood away, respecting the show of human sorrow. Losing an adult Clan member was the sadder part of living. Losing an offspring while it was still a pup was a seemingly unbearable pain. As usual, Sally would have to find her way through this, but he would be at her side throughout this journey, trying to ensure that her mind did not slip back into the dark desolate and empty places he knew it could go.

He wondered as he watched the women, would Melanie still leave them and return to the Blue Planet? Her daughter had defended her with amazing bravery and skill. And Theron's bond to the female was all but sealed. Sig'dan didn't understand how any female, no matter what her origin, could leave her pup and the promise of such an honorable mate behind. But female minds, including ones from Earth, could be baffling, he reminded himself.


	26. Reverberations

**Chapter 25: Reverberations**

"_I assess the power of a will by how much resistance, pain, torture it endures and knows how to turn to its advantage.__" -__Friedrich Nietzsche__  
_

When there were no more tears that could possibly be shed, Sally gave her friend, Mel, another hug. "Thank you for being here for me. I don't know how I'm going to get through losing Doru, and Yin's death leaves another hole in this house." She stood, with assistance from Sig'dan who had quietly walked up from his vigil of respect while his mate openly mourned the loss of her pup. "Thank you," she told him, "I'm going to wash my face."

With Sally going to the bathroom, Sig'dan then offered a hand-up to Mel who took it without any sign of her usual doubt of him. "Thank you for defending us," she bowed humbly.

Startled by the change in her demeanor, he replied, "It is always my honor to defend you and Signý. I rejoice that Theron's blade was swift enough to save you."

"I owe him a great deal," she murmured. "And Signý! You're very proud of her aren't you?" Mel questioned, looking into Sig'dan's eyes. For the first time she did so without feeling that shudder of a memory of his naked form over her, taking her relentlessly between doses of sedistim. It had been horrible to feel so out-of-control, completely helpless over your fate, at the mercy of another and to have your will overshadowed by the animalistic demands of your own body.

"I am, most Honorable Bearer. And of you also. Even though untrained, you were going to take on a BadBlood to save our pup."

Mel stammered for a moment in self-consciousness. "I-I only did what I had to do in that moment. I should go find Signý, I left her with Theron. And…I need to talk to her…and him."

"Very well," the Healer regarded her with kind eyes. "If Signý is up to it, I would like to praise her for her battle. May I see her?"

"Sure, I know that your approval means a great deal to her. If she's up to it, I'll send her over."

"Good and, Honorable Mel-an-ee, perhaps we can speak later?"

"Uh, sure. I'll see you later then." A bit anxious, Mel left to return to the Hunter who had saved her life and the daughter who had fought so bravely for her, wondering what Sig'dan wanted to talk with her about. Entering her apartment, she found the main living areas empty of all save the ever-present aseigan. So she went to her private wing where she found them in the bathing room. Theron was cleaning and medicating a cut on her arm that Signý had obtained during the fight and managed to hide from her Sire and the other Healers, desiring them to attend her sisters first. Mel watched the tender scene from the doorway.

Quietly, he spoke to the pup in their native language, "Signý, you are a most brave and honorable young female. I know that your Bearer and your Sire are very proud of you. You fought with great skill and courage. I look forward to training you for the spar."

"I did only what I was required of me – as any of us would. I am eager to be your student again," Signý said almost shyly to the great Hunter. "I shall do my very best to learn and demonstrate your teaching."

"I am certain that you will small one. Just as I am certain that you will continue to bring honor to your Bloodline." The gray Hunter patted the top of her skull affectionately. Suddenly sensing Mel's presence he turned and met the warm liquid of her eyes, overflowing with gratitude. Noiseless tears slid down her cheeks and dropped from her chin to lie on her hide covered breasts which were heaving with emotion.

Never breaking her gaze from his, Mel addressed her daughter, "Signý, your Father wants to speak with you. If you're feeling up to it he's over at the Matriarch's apartment."

"Yes, Ka. I feel okay. I want to check on all my sisters, too." The pup looked at both the adults who were in intimate eye lock with each other, and took a small huff of their scents. Sensing their need for privacy, she cocked her head at them for an instant and then was off running to see her sisters and her Sire.

Theron scented a complex cocktail of affection, gratitude and welcome emanating from Melanie, along with a delicate note that he did not yet know how to label. He discerned her deeply rooted fears. Steadying his own response, he was conscious of his body's burning longing for this female – no matter what her race or specie. She had proved herself an honorable Bearer, willing to defend her offspring even if it meant certain death for herself. As he spent time with Mel and began to come to know her, he had ignored his growing craving with all the will and discipline a Warrior of Dor'an possessed, and found that he could not banish his desires.

He had watched over her during the battle, even as he slaughtered the dishonorable BadBloods who had attacked them en masse. When the Hunter had grasped her neck and started to throttle the life from her, Theron felt as though he had levitated and followed his long blade through the air straight into that vital spot between the ribs of the coward's back. Had there not been more of the vermin to kill, he would have satisfied his rage by stomping the BadBlood's skull into the floor. Instead he turned his ferocious anger on the youthful Hunters who dared attack his Blood Bond. Flesh was cleaved and blood ran. The floor became slippery with cowardly gore and he skated through it to finish the last of them off. Then, with his blood still bounding and hot from the fight, he stood fiercely over Mel as she embraced her youngling, his aggressive musk and fierce glare daring anyone to approach them. All had given him room until his scent cooled.

Melanie, still entranced by liquid gray orbs, thought that Theron was being hesitant and intimate with her – all at the same confusing time. She finally broke the eye-contact. He was much, much too close. She could see the sheen of battle sweat still glistening on the hardness that was his body. The gray coloring had taken on an almost pearlescent glow where it shined in the light.

He reminded her of a great wild stallion. Back on Earth, Mel had been astute at reading horses and right now it was as though Theron was a pent-up stallion, all puffed, blown up and ready to explode from the slightest wrong movement on her part. Instinctively, she reached a steady hand to touch his bicep. It did remind her of the bold crest of a stud in its prime. She rested softly against his skin, feeling the muscle tense beneath her. "Relax, Hunter. I won't bite." _Too bad, _he thought. She put more pressure into her touch and found that he pressed back against her ever so slightly, enjoying the warmth of her palm.

Resuming her decorum she bowed her head, still holding her hand against his unbelievably firm arm, "Thank you, most Honorable Theron. Thank you for my life, and the life of my child." _What am I doing? _Mel felt like her reaction to the Hunter had taken on a life of its own, and she was merely observing herself act and speak. _And what is that seductive fragrance he's wearing? Earthy, and so enticing. I can't begin to describe it._

The warm rumble of his voice filled her entire body with vibration when he spoke and brought her back into feeling her own form. "Mel-an-ee, I am honored to be your defender – and Signý's also." He nodded and then wondered what to say next. This was uncharted territory, this being with a human female. He did not know what to do next, and he didn't want to frighten her. This was not usually a delicate moment. A Yautja female would have scented his ardor and either challenged him to conquer her or walked away in disinterest. He didn't even know if this Earth female could scent him.

"I, uh…appreciate your friendship Theron," Mel looked up at him and once again discovered the depth and intelligence of his eyes.

Impatient to accomplish something…anything, Theron decided to venture forth, "Mel, what I have for you is more than friendship." The Earth woman raised one brow.

"I uh, I kinda thought you might feel that way. I…uh…like you too, more than I've been willing to think about."

_Like? Like? _Well it was an admission to some sort of attachment to him, so he plunged on. "Were you fearful because of what happened with you and Sig'dan?" he deeply whispered, as though he were afraid the sound of his voice would scare the skittish woman away. He longed to return her touch, but iron will kept his hands at his sides.

"At first I was," Mel let her hand slide down the arm of steel, feeling every bulge and curve. "Later, I tried to ignore you because I was afraid that any relationship with you would interfere with my plans to return to Earth."

Theron had closed his eyes, absorbed in the feel of Mel's hand as she stroked down his arm. Did she have any idea how she was making him feel? How she was testing his strength and resolve? "And now? What do you say now?"

"I told you before that I like being around you more than any Hunter I know. Well, it's more than 'like', Theron. In truth, I find you very attractive." The stallion at the end of her invisible noose bent its neck and puffed up just a bit more. She could almost hear the sound of its snorting, it's excitement.

"You are most attractive to me, Mel. When I told your daughter that she was as beautiful as her Bearer - that was truth." The rod of discipline bent a little and the Hunter reached his hand to her face and pressed his palm gently against her cheek. To his pleasure the pressure was returned. "I am honor bound to tell you that this has been difficult for me. My Clan does not mate outside our own kind. It is considered a great dishonor. But I will not hide my attraction to you any longer – I will not live a lie."

Melanie's cheeks bloomed forth a rosy hue at his admission, "Sally told me a little about your Clan. I, uh, am also honor bound to tell you that I'm still uncertain, Theron. I want to go back to Earth very badly. I miss my family there, and my friends. I miss the blue skies and green fields. I miss the smells. Can you understand?"

"Yes," he slowly admitted. "If I were to leave Yaut, I would miss similar things about it that you miss about Earth." He ran his thumb pad over her cheekbone. "Since you are torn, why don't you return, Mel? Go and see how you feel about being there, knowing that you have a daughter a galaxy away, and that you have me here – filled with desire for you."

"Will you take me there, Theron?" Her entire body flushed, and her scent was no longer delicate to him, but strong and musky with sweetness and salt.

"No. My honor and will are strong and I would not move against your wishes, Earth female. But I will not torment myself by being alone with you on a ship for such a journey. None are as disciplined as those from my Clan and I will never harm you Mel. But clearly understand my desire is to mate you and that this desire grows daily. It would be better if Sig'dan took you. Go…see what Earth has to offer you and how it compares with what you have here. Then make your decision. I will support whatever it is."

"I need to ask you some things before I leave, if I may."

"Ask."

"If I decide to return, what will our relationship be? There are still many things here I don't understand."

Theron suppressed a small feeling of victory that she would even ask him such a question. "If you return, not only for your daughter but with desire for me, we would mate. I would ensure that you carry my Bloodline, and I protect you throughout your pregnancy. After the pup is born, I will enjoy spending time with you and with it. And then after it is weaned, if you desire, I will fill you with my seed again – and we will be mates creating pups for as long as you wish. Here, females are free to mate with whomever they choose, but the males are free to challenge each other for the right to breed. I will vanquish anyone who challenges me as I would have no other touch you for as long as I live."

Mel listened to the silky voice pledge to make her continually pregnant and felt searing disappointment weld up within her, "So you only want me for sex and to make babies? That's all I mean to you?"

Theron was taken aback by her question. "To create new life is a sacred act of exquisite passion! I admire many things about you, Mel-an-ee. I would not want to make a pup with just anyone."

"Not that there's much of a choice of who to screw anymore," the woman replied dryly. "On Earth we value the relationship between a man and a woman. Ideally they are best friends, they enjoy spending time together, they have mutual values and goals. It's not just about sex, Theron, and making babies."

"Life is simple for my kind," he answered her. "I am an honorable Hunter – a worthy mate. Your children by me will all be strong and intelligent. We will teach them the path, the true way of life and we will be happy, Mel. Myn'dill can help you live a very long life here with me and our pups, much longer and healthier than you would have enjoyed back on your planet. Yes, I want to Sire pups with you, but only because I value and honor you. That is what I have to offer."

Mel was not sure how to answer him. "I know that you are very Honorable, Theron, and strong and smart. I guess I just thought that I'd eventually find someone and get married and be a couple first and then have a family."

"A couple?"

"On Earth a couple, a man and a women, they go places together, like out to dinner, and maybe they golf together or something. It's just different, Theron. I'm sorry I can't explain it better."

"Are you trying to bring up the fact that we do not take permanent mates as you humans attempt to do?"

"Well, now that you bring it up, that's a point too. What's to stop you from going out and finding some other female to breed? Huh?" Mel was getting a little emotional and wound up by the turn of the conversation.

"It is true, we do not have an agreement to live together and be exclusive mates as you oomans do. But look around, female. Who else is there for me to mate with? The only other grown female on this planet is Sally, and she would have her formidable Consort challenge me if I dared to express interest in her. Besides, I am not interested in mating her. "

"I bet the Consort would give you a time you wouldn't forget!"

"He would try, Honorable female, he would try."

"So you wouldn't go to Earth and capture some woman like me and bring her back here to bear your pups?"

"By my Honor, because I have no interest in doing that, and because it is important to you, I would not. You would be my only mate for the rest of your life, Mel-an-ee. And when I am left without you, I shall mourn your passing." His genuine sincerity was believable. Mel had learned that a Hunter's word could be counted on.

"Okay then." Mel took a large breath. The Hunter that she was admittedly attracted to had laid all his cards on the table. The next move was up to her. "I'll get Sig'dan or someone to take me home and I'll check it out. If I don't return, you'll know my decision."

"I will." He nodded politely to her and made his way from her dwelling, leaving behind a woman whose head and heart were spinning without any indication of where they would stop.

* * *

Still filled with the fire of fighting, the Elder Arbitrator strode purposefully down into the bowels of the Hall of the Arbitrators. Down beneath the building, accessible only by curving, sloped ramps of stone were the cells of the prisoners of the Law. Captured BadBloods awaiting sentencing and execution or banishment were held here, as well as those who waited to be questioned. Death would have been a preferable option.

Aldúlfr made for the cell holding his interest. A hybrid Healer found at the jungle's edge whose scent had betrayed his fear upon seeing the Arbitrators. He had been seized when he tried to run and brought here for questioning. It was now Aldúlfr's prideful duty to see what information could be obtained from this cowardly captive.

The Arbitrator had studied his craft and apprenticed for many years under the guidance of his former mentor who was an Elder Arbitrator himself, now passed to Cetanu's Hall. Because of that, Aldúlfr now knew more about Yautja anatomy than most Healers. He knew the places where bones were easiest to break, the places where tissues could be persuaded to rupture, just how much damage could be inflicted while still allowing a Hunter to live, and most importantly, the nodes of nerves that could serve him as exquisite switches of terrifying pain - the kind of pain that made its sufferers long for death. The kind of pain that made strong Hunters spit out the answers Aldúlfr was seeking before he would grant them a merciful death. The Elder did not glory in his skill. This was simply something that needed to be done, and he was the one trained to do it.

The Healer's countenance blanched a pale brown when he saw who had come to pay him a visit. Aldúlfr was not known personally to him, but the huge Elder's age and stature were plain to see. His poise and scent indicating he had come from battle and was not in the mood to coddle any prisoner. Two younger Arbitrators accompanied him. They opened the cell and jumped in to seize the still naked Healer. Lashing him to the bars of his cell with leather thongs, they then tied his wrists, ankles and neck quite tightly to the metal rods.

Aldúlfr stood away from the prisoner, eyeing him thoughtfully. Then he walked up to him and placed a foretalon on the skin of the Healer's neck, drawing down in a curving line and pressing into a place just below the collar bone. "I have questions that need to be answered," he began. "Tell me what I want to know."

The captive only stared out into the cell, his eyes a hardened mask, resolved to suffer and endure. He made no sound, nor any movement. He did not even look at the Arbitrator.

"So, you are strong. Strong and tough," Aldúlfr inched his foretalon beneath the skin of the Healer and began to press down and deep as though searching for something. "We shall see." The Yautja winced as the sharp claw dug into the nerve cluster that governed his left shoulder and arm. Lightning rang down into his hand as the pressure increased. The Arbitrator easily punctured the indented skin and probed around the transmitting fibers severing some of them. He watched the Healer's face intently for reaction to his work. The Healer's jaw initially tensed, and then opened in a roar of pain. A look of satisfaction crossed Aldúlfr's face, and he began to question.

A fairly short time later, he emerged from the cell and went to wash his hands in a nearby sink. Taking a coarse set of bristles, he scrupulously cleaned under his talons as clumps of dried green blood and tissue fell down into the drain. The Healer had not taken long to talk. The Arbitrator was always relieved when the prisoner required no more demonstrations of just how much pain could be inflicted on his body. He would let the Healer rest awhile, perhaps a cycle or more, and then return to see if there was any more information to be gleaned. A cycle of contemplation and healing would often help a captive to 'remember' just a few more details before his neck was mercifully broken.

So far, Aldúlfr had the name of the Leader of this band, and the names of those closest to him. Most, if not all of these would eventually be categorized as dead. The tortured had also warbled out how the group had stolen a hunt transport and obtained human mates, and then how they had abandoned it to drop ship down to the Blue Planet where they had wandered in the wilderness for some time. The Elder was suspicious of the account and suspected that the ship was the one reported by the Blue Planet as one they had legally attacked and destroyed.

The Healer had been coughing badly by that point, but had managed to sputter out a few bits regarding the group stealing yet another ship and returning to Yaut to carry out the attack on the Matriarch and her offspring. He had outlined Kash'ta's hatred of the Matriarch and how he had convinced many hybrids of the honor of the mission, saying he was led by Paya.

"What of your females?" Aldúlfr had asked his squirming, whining form.

"They perished when…ship burned up over Yaut. We escaped in drop ships. No time to get them…or pups." He panted grotesquely.

"YOU MURDERED YOUR PUPS!" the Arbitrator growled in his face, before jabbing his talons back into the sizeable hole of glop he had created in the Healer's abdomen. Grabbing onto a slippery section of bowel, he twisted it tightly as the Yautja before him screamed in agony.

In disgust, Aldúlfr left the piteous pile of cowardice to the prison Healers. Best to leave now before his anger killed the pauk-de s'yuit-de excuse for a Yautja. Right now, he needed a good meal, some rest and perhaps a visit with his pups. He had not listened to their individual stories of the battle, and was looking forward to hearing of their exploits as they had experienced them. He made a low chortle to himself, realizing that some of the small pups, barely into their training, already sported scars from real fighting.

_I will die here, _thought the Healer through the haze of pain that had become his world. _Yet my pup will live on deep in the safety of the temple ruin. My Bloodline lives on. _He smiled inside, relishing the secret that he would take into death.

* * *

Sig'dan crawled in beside his sleeping Sally. Exhausted, she had retired early, but found sleep would not come. Over and over the battle scenes had played out in her mind – terrifying images of Hunter's lunging, blades clanging, throwing blades whizzing through the air, growls of pain and her precious pups rushing to protect their mothers and each other.

She had been caught completely off guard when the pups ran in front to protect her. She had not thought them capable yet of such a reaction. They were her little girls! She realized that for their growth, she had to release her fairy tale vision of them. Yes, they were small, but in their minds and hearts they were completely Yautja. True, they spoke English and responded to several of her customs, such as tucking them in at night. But those were simply the Earthly veneers she had placed on their surface. Inside each one, the DNA had been brought forward so that each was a being born to hunt, born to track, chase and kill, and as females, born to be Bearers of their own pups.

_I need to have 'the talk' with them soon – before they return to camp. My influence on them may be dwindling, but I am the only adult female. I can direct them in their mating choices. I already see them sizing up grown Hunters and batting their mandibles at them. I know that no Hunter will touch any of them before their Chiva or else he will face the wrath of the High Council, not to mention the Consort, but afterwards…oh, my God is it going to be chaos around here! The claims, the fights, the many Hunters and only my twenty little girls…Stop it! They won't be little by then. I'm going to have Theron teach them how to put any Hunter on his ass who disrespects them!_

"Sleep eludes you," said Sig'dan as he moved in to her bed space to surround her. Curving around her sideways body, he placed one strong arm around her waist and pulled her into himself.

She gave a sign of contentment before replying. "I was just thinking about things, and feeling grateful that you were not killed today and that none of the other pups or Hunters was seriously hurt." A lump formed in her throat as she was reminded once again that Doru was gone. She tried not to cry again in front of Sig'dan.

"I know you are not Yautja," he said softly, "Cry if you must."

"I don't think I have any more tears just now. It's just what we humans do. I will mourn my daughter's death for some time."

"Will you always cry when you think of her?"

"After a time I won't, but I can't tell you when that will be. Until then I will put on as brave a face as possible to the others. But when I'm alone or sometimes when I'm alone with you I may need to cry. Can you understand?"

The young Hunter thought carefully, "I do not cry, so I do not understand the need to do it. But I do understand mourning for the loss of one of your family. We Yautja do it, but often in private. Even though she was not my Bloodborn, I grieve for Doru also in my own way. So when you are here, with just me and you need to cry – do so. I will not be offended or impatient that you are still mourning."

"Thank you Sig-dan. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You would do well, Sal-lee. After all, you would still have my Sire."

"He has grown in importance to me, but he will never, ever replace you."

"Your words make my pride grow…along with other things."

"Sig-dan! " Sally gave a half-hearted snort, "There is no end to your lust is there?"

He looked thoughtful again for a moment, and then answered, "No."

"Well, my dear, I am just completely not in the mood."

"What is mood?"

"My daughter died today and that consumes me. I do not want to mate, and it may be some time before I want to mate. Nothing is wrong with me, or with you. I'm just not in the mood."

Sig'dan's eyes regarded her thoughtfully and he tapped a set of mandibles together. "May I ask a clarification?"

"Of course – what is it?"

"Are you not in the mood for the Consort either?"

"I am not in the mood for ANYONE."

"Good!" He pronounced. "And you will tell me when you are in the mood again?"

"I certainly will, you will be the first to know."

"I will be? Not the Consort?"

"Oh God, Sig-dan. YOU will be the first to know – okay?"

"Okay," he settled down with a self-satisfied smugness. "Let us sleep now."

Sally felt him relax beside her, and his breathing became even and regular. Her mind still did not let her rest. She had been shocked with the initial attack on her dwelling. At first she wondered if there had been an earthquake, but the response of the Hunters told her it was an attack.

Horrified when Yin had been hit, she faced the encroaching intruders with the grim realization that she was going to have to fight. Telling Mel to search for a weapon she cursed herself for not asking Sig'dan to teach her anything about combat. Had she been a real Matriarch, she would have waded into the skirmish, blade at the ready, knocking about her foes merely with her sheer size and strength. But she was only a small human female, desperately looking for a way to defend her family.

When the pups joined the battle, she had followed them. There was little help she could offer but she was determined to do whatever she could to support the warriors and her pups. She pried blades from the hands of the dead and passed them to the defenders. She even managed to position a spear handle behind a BadBlood and trip him while he was driven backward by Sig'dan. He had nodded to her as the unaware one lost his balance and was immediately slain by her lover.

But when Doru fell, she rushed to the pups who were trying to help her, and screamed for Myn'dill or Sig'dan. Neither could help as they were outnumbered and surrounded by their cowardly attackers. Sally had knelt helplessly beside the unconscious pup, fearful of moving her. She had torn cloth from her top to wrap the small head and try to staunch the bleeding. It was then that she saw the extent of the damage at the back of her daughter's skull. Shaking, she returned the little one's head to rest against the wall, the sinking feeling in her gut that there was nothing anyone could do for the heroic pup.

Sig'dan's gentle rumble startled her from remembering. "Would you like me to get you a medication to help you sleep?"

"Yes. I don't think I'll get any otherwise."

He tapped on the light and got up to retrieve a pill from a cabinet.

"I didn't know we had that kind of medication here at the house."

"We don't usually. I had an aseigan bring this from the medical Hall. I thought perhaps you might need it this evening."

"You always are thinking of me," she smiled.

"True," he acknowledged. "Always."

* * *

Doru felt pain as sudden and great as a clap of a lightning bolt through her head. One moment she had been flying over the heads of the fighters as the grown Hunter had hurled her from his hand, and the next moment she had collided with immovable hardness. Then all had become very, very slow. She felt herself slide down the wall-way on a river of what must be her own blood. Her sisters came running to her, but she could not speak or move to recognize them. All was peaceful and quiet as she closed her eyes and began to feel a floating sensation.

When she opened her eyes again, she was traveling down a long dark hallway as if pulled by magnetic force. Then the movement was over and she stood in front of the largest, darkest door she had ever seen. _I know that I died in battle, so this MUST be the passage to Cetanu, what am I supposed to do now? There is no com to announce myself. _She scrabbled up the door to explore it, and was able to find claw holds in the rough and penetrable structure.

In the great Feasting Hall of Cetanu, a small irregular scratching noise is heard coming from the outer doorway. "Who requests entrance?" the Dark Hunter with glowing golden eyes growls, "I know of no Hunter who has sought me in this moment."

The small scratching sounds again and the Warrior of Death commands the doorway to be opened. The great black doors are pushed aside, as all the Halls Honorable Hunters stop their feasting to see who has dared to bother them. Nothing is there, to everyone's puzzlement. Then, around an open door edge walks a very young, female pup.

Centau's glare softens as he regards her. "Who are you, little one? Why do you seek my feasting Hall?"

"I am Doru, of the A'rkês Clan," she replies with pride in her voice. "I am a Young Pup Arbitrator-in-Training! And I have perished in battle. I came through a long dark hallway and now I am here."

"You? In battle?" The Dark One passes his hand over the blank wall and suddenly a scene appears. Many Hunters are clashing in a furious fight and over on one side of the room are two human women and a group of pups.

A large Hunter rumbles and stands from his place at the table exclaiming, "Sal-lee! That is Sal-lee!" He looks at the pup, and then asks permission from Cetanu to speak to her. The Dark One nods.

"Who are you to Sal-lee, Doru?"

"I am her offspring, Honorable Hunter. As you now see in this scene, we pups fought to protect our Bearers, and…I was killed." The young one suddenly sounded alone and forlorn.

Cetanu again nods to the large Hunter who leaves the table and walks over to the pup, his arms outstretched to her. "Welcome, small Warrior! We are honored to have you at this table. Come, sit by me. We have much to discuss." He picks up Doru, who is busy gesturing a greeting to the recently arrived Yin, and carries her back to sit right next to him. He offers her the finest of meat and fruit to eat. After she has gorged herself, he picks her up again and places her upon his immense lap. "Now, tell me of Sal-lee and her pups."

Doru talks and talks, relating tales of each of her sisters and answering the many questions the large Hunter has about the Matriarch and her sisters Ulfrde and Arndís. Finally, the pup looks up at the Hunter and voices, "And what is your name Honorable Hunter?"

"I am Ulfr of the Clan Od'hroer-ir. I was a mate of the Matriarch, and the brother of Sig'dan and the Bloodline of Honorable Aldúlfr!"

The petite jaws fall open in surprise and then the small brows wrinkle before Doru reminds her Elder, "You mean Honorable Elite Elder Arbitrator Aldúlfr?"

"Yes," clicks Ulfr, in total amusement, "the very same!" He stroked the growing locks fondly, "If you like, I shall continue your training here."

"Are you an Arbitrator?" Doru asked.

"No, little one. But I AM an Elite Hunter. I would be honored to be your trainer until Aldúlfr arrives to continue your instruction."

"I would be greatly honored," she replied. "And what of Ka? Will she be coming also?"

Ulfr touched on of her brows in gentle fondness with a huge finger. "I believe that someday she will." he replied as a faraway longing took over his wise eyes. "After all, she IS the Matriarch! Come then, I will show you around and we have much to do!" Ulfr looked to Cetanu in silent communication, and with the Dark God's blessing led the Warrior pup away.


	27. A Panorama of Growing Pains

**A/N: Hard to believe it was one year ago tomorrow that I published the first chapter of 'Paya's House' with my fingers shaking and knees knocking. My appreciation goes out again to the marvelous Stupe for her amazing support and assistance during my initial efforts, and as always, my sincere thanks to all of you – the readers. Your support, your suggestions, your critiques have almost all been valuable. I'm amazed at the readers that Paya's House continues to attract and am grateful for this forum in which to hone my skill, share my visions and be engaged by the visions of others. Happy 2012 Winter Solstice! I hope that you have a warm home, plenty to eat, and someone who loves you that you love in return. I wish for peace and plenty in this coming New Year, and sincerely believe that no one, not the slightest, meekest individual – is unimportant to the greater scheme of things.**

**Chapter 26: A Panorama of Growing Pains**

"_You have to do your own growing no matter how tall your grandfather was." – Abraham Lincoln_

Ferocious growls echoed through the underground chambers where five somewhat-grown pups were earnestly engaged in mock battle. The youngsters were all scantily clothed – scraps of tattered brown hide forming the shoddily sewn loincloths that were their only covering. High, bald foreheads surrounded by shoulder-length ropey fringe bobbed up and down, lobbing rocks and screaming at each other.

Pitted three against two with the smallest ones forming the larger team, they were flinging stones, their immature voices rumbling threats and epithets. "Take that, you sonza-bitches!" the largest male yelled, pitching a rock at the opposition. A trio of giggling, clicking targets quickly evaded the missile by ducking behind a stony outcropping, and then retaliated with a hailstorm of gravel screaming, "Fuck you, assholes!"

"If you kids hurt each other, there's gonna be hell to pay!" a tired woman's voice shouted over the din of pup roar and patter of stones. "Such language!" she exclaimed to the other women who were rasping fresh hides with stone scrapers while she tended a bubbling pot of broth over the sparking fire. "Dammit! This wood's too green," she complained as a flying ember stung her stirring hand.

"Well, Duncan, I think they learned most of those words from you," chuckled one of the leather makers, running the wide edge of her palm-sized stone down the flesh side of the fur. As she worked, a thin roll of pale connective tissue welled up at the base of the tool. "It's not like we have to prepare them for polite society. Can you imagine their coming-out party?" High cackles stopped their work as the women all enjoyed the mental image of their rough, grubby children at a debutante ball.

The red-headed former police officer sighed, realizing they would probably spend the rest of their lives eking out survival in these caves with memories of Earth only a fading pattern of comfort in the scrapbook formed from their collective minds. She stirred the thin soup in the clay pot before her with the spoon she had painstakingly formed from a woody plant stem. Making the spoon's depression had added to the calluses on her hands as she whittled it with the tip of the Yautja knife she still possessed. It had taken the ruination of several trial stems before she perfected her technique. Now, everyone in the makeshift family possessed a spoon to eat with.

The children were remarkably strange – all the women agreed. None of them had known what to expect from the newborn babies and none of the Hunters were left to give any advice or guidance on how to rear them. The new mothers had been forced to deal with the part alien infants the best they could, putting their heads together often as the babies displayed breathtakingly fast development - walking and talking at an unexpectedly early age.

They were abnormally strong for their small size, easily picking up rocks to use for toys. The troupe had built a small 'fort' of moderate boulders just a few days ago – pooling their strength to roll and life rocks several times their small size. Led by the largest boy, the children worked as a flawless team to complete the project with little argument or strife until the structure was complete. Their mothers had wondered where such cooperation had come from, as the group was certainly willing to squabble over nearly everything else. Only Duncan had understood that they carried an inborn respect for their leader, and when the ruling child had issued orders for them to accomplish something, they instinctively obeyed him.

Duncan had also known that the Hunters who fathered the children were hybrids, half Yautja and half human, even though they appeared to untrained Earth eyes as fully Yautja. So that meant that the children were three-quarters human and only one quarter Yautja and, with no medical intervention during gestation, it showed. The skulls, although large and bald, bore much smoother crowning. Some of the pups actually had hair, although it grew in great hanks only from nubby bulges that encircled their craniums, giving an alien medieval monk-like appearance. The youngsters were all muscular, even the three girls, and all sported a variety of skin spots which occurred in greater density on their backs and faded out towards their bellies. Other than the bald heads, their most striking feature was a set of thin but functional mandibles which were prominent with upper and lower tusks on the males while much smaller with two pair of petite fangs on the females.

Even though only half her height, the Duncan knew that the two oldest children were on the verge of becoming stronger than she was. The realization whooped an unforeseen red alert deep in the center of her brain. The women raised the children as a group, freely correcting and disciplining each others offspring. They had enforced their will and rules upon the children mostly through vocal authority. Duncan also used that 'police' attitude she had cultivated from her profession. However, more often than she wanted, she had resorted to corporal punishment. When spankings no longer worked on the tough little bodies, she had given the largest a righteous face smack which sent him reeling to obey her command. Her right hand clenched as she recalled that day…

Jude had left the play group to go behind some nearby stones to urinate. It irritated him to have to hide just to perform a simple body function. But his mother and the other mothers had insisted. Furthermore, they had designated a certain area above ground for elimination. Urine could be streamed out plainly on the dirt, but a 'bowel movement' as his mother called it, was to be placed in a scrape and then covered. Jude preferred the head Mother's term for it - 'shit'. Going all the way through the corridors to seek the above- ground exit just to pee seemed pointless to Jude and an unacceptable interruption to his playtime.

The very young Yautja reached under his hanging cloth for the solution to his now aching back and removed it in order to bathe the rocky ground with his relief, stifling a groan of release as his bladder returned to normal size. There was no sense in alerting his siblings to what he was doing, as one of them would surely tattle on him - especially the short red haired one. Mother Duncan's daughter, although too weak to assume leadership among the children, delighted in informing her mother of real or supposed trespasses at every available opportunity. Someday, when the adults were busy, he was going to teach that spoiled brat a lesson she wouldn't forget!

Thinking of the girl and the idea of exerting dominion over her suddenly caused his now empty member to harden in his hand. This had been happening quite a bit lately and while he wasn't certain exactly what caused it, it felt very, very good. He had found early on that stroking it with his hand drove him into a frenzy of ecstasy and released a strange thick and sticky fluid. He didn't exactly know what that was either.

He was contemplating on how to do this, without making his usual sounds within earshot of the others, when Duncan's sharp voice lanced his eardrums. "Jude! You peed here in the caves! Dammit! Are you too lazy to go outside? You know the rules!"

Embarrassed at being caught in a private moment of deliberation regarding his little understood 'feel good' act, Jude's young tool instantly deflated. Thoroughly humiliated at the intrusion, he jammed the flesh back into his cloth before turning with a face-splayed growl to face Duncan. "Outside is just too far away, god-dammit! Don't you tell me what to do, you…you…you…you bitch!"

Without thinking, Duncan shot her arm forward to deliver a powerful palm slap to the side of his face, crashing one opened mandible against his inner jaw and sending him off-balance. The rude youth stumbled backwards, falling upon his butt open-mouthed in shock. "Get on your feet!" the woman shook with rage and fear – not believing what she had just done to a little child. "Now apologize!" she roared in his face.

Jude fought back the tears welling in his eyes from the pain of the blow and made an apologetic grunt.

"No! Say an apology – not your god-damn rumble!"

"I am sorry."

"Sorry for what?" she spat at him.

"Sorry for sassing you…and calling you a bitch." His newfound respect for her prowess involuntarily made his eyes shift to the ground.

Shuddering from the unpleasant memory, Duncan realized that, in short order, such violence would no longer have any effect on him and, something which worried her more, he might even strike back! She faced the very unpleasant reality that it would not be long until neither she nor the other females would be able to control the youngsters, particularly the lead male. What would life be like then?

Earlier, she had noticed a growing selfishness in the children. _But all children are selfish, _she told herself. _But these children are…devious. Devious and self-serving. They will do anything to get what they want. _It seemed that they were somehow 'worse' then fully human children, but Duncan could not say for certain – this being her first motherhood trial. _Even my own daughter who seems more human to me than the others may go against me, _her thoughts sorrowed.

_When the children are in control, what will that mean for us? _She could imagine the hybrids demanding that the women cook what they wanted and they would certainly be tasked with all the menial chores. _They will sit around on fat asses and order us about. _ An unbidden thought froze Duncan's spoon in the pot, _What about when they get older…older and sexual? Three girls, two boys and four human women…_

* * *

"Wait for me!" Signý called to her sisters who were heading towards the dining hall at the Training Camp. The females had worked hard at their lessons this cycle and were eager to eat. They had spent this morning, as all mornings for many cycles, running and practicing their balance in various fighting positions as they readied themselves for the kehrite. Later, the afternoon had flown by as they gave hanging bags practice punches and hits. Signý nursed a sore right hand as she trotted up to the end of the line entering the great hall with its long table and benches.

At the table head sat the Elite Elder Arbitrator Aldúlfr. Streaming down on both sides of them sat the rest of their Trainers, including Myn'dill, several High-Council Elders and the Dor'an Warrior, Theron. The trainees took their places even farther down the table and sat quietly waiting for the aseigan to deliver the meal. Training table discipline was enforced with no speaking unless spoken to by a Trainer.

Arndís huffed in the savory scent of raw flesh as the servant delivered her portion to her plate and proceeded on down the row, serving each young female in turn. Another servant poured water in her flask, while yet another delivered three fruits and a handful of shelled nuts to her place setting. Everyone was served in a very short time by the efficient aseigan and then all waited for the Hunter at the head of the table to begin his meal.

The Consort picked up the pink haunch gracing his plate and began tearing at it with giant tusks, feeding the shreds to his waiting jaws. In near unison, the rest of the table responded by starting to devour their own ration. The food was the healthiest available, wide in variety and nutrients to replenish maturing bodies as the young females grew to reclaim the rightful status of Matriarchs and pup-Bearers in this male-laden society.

Ulfrde's delicate razor tusks shaved delicious meat from the bone she grasped. Their ooman Bearers' Blue Planet table manners had been abandoned in favor of the dining style of the Hunters. No patting at the face between bites with the cloth that had been carefully laid upon your lap. Instead, one ate heartily – a custom begun in ancient times when Yautja fought each other for scraps and each cycles meat went to the strongest first. Only when the meal was finished was a damp cloth brought to clean the mandibles and face. What was the point of cleaning yourself only to take another bite, had been the sage observation of one High Elder after the girls had first entered the camp.

Although far from completely mature, the two full sisters had grown tall and strong. Ulfrde was still the stronger, with impressive muscles that shaped her body into a young powerhouse that did not yet know its full strength. Arndís was a bit taller and more slender with the musculature of a savannah runner rather than the arena warrior physique of her sister. She was still step-in-step with her sister in a supportive role, as Ulfrde silently claimed leadership by virtue of her size and strength.

The rest of the sisterhood ranged in stature, might and intellect, but all were well formed and bright. The daughter of Mel and Sig'dan ranked in the midst of them with an average build for her age. Signý had stayed quick and lithe, in spite of her muscles, and displayed a marked intellect as well as an interest in following her Sire's footsteps as Healer.

The Elite Elder rapped on the table to call for attention and then stood to address the group. "Young UnBloods! Go to rest early. When the sun brightens the sky I will see you in the kerhite!" He nodded to them and signaled the end of the meal. All the females immediately stood and walked out single file to their sleeping quarters. Once inside, with the door shut, the rumble of a Yautja war-whoop thundered across the room as the females cheered. Tomorrow they would be in the arena – could a real spar be far behind?

"They won't be able to sleep," chortled Myn'dill to the rest of the Hunters. The adult males had retired to the Trainers' quarters and sat around the room enjoying a drink before they went to their rest for the evening.

"Indeed," agreed Aldúlfr, quaffing his c'ntlip and pausing to savor the smoothly bitter and refreshing flavor.

"You must be eager to start them in the kehrite," observed one of the High Elders.

"It has been a long wait," the Elder Arbitrator admitted, while thinking to himself, _I especially look forward to seeing what Ulfrde is capable of._

The next morning a chittering group of female UnBloods dropped into complete silence as they crossed the sacred threshold into the heart and soul of the Yautja nation. The kehrite was where the lessons of honor grew flesh. Strength, skill and courage prevailed here, while the weakest were weeded out into the ranks of aseigan. With the predicament of the race, none of the class would fall to this fate. But the strongest females would have the most value as breeders.

Excited eyes took in the spacious arena with seating for observers and three sparring circles laid out on the shining floor. Over on a wall hung an assortment of all the blades, spears and throwing discs utilized by this Hunting race. The females' eyes shone as they drank in the array of gleaming metallic honor and death. It would be some time before they were allowed to train with the weapons. Just as the males did, first they must learn hand-to-hand combat, or jehdin-jehdin as the Yautja called it. Finally, when the student had proved her self to be worthy enough, flesh would be united first with the blade, and then with the shoulder cannon to create the Hunter-Warrior that ruled the galaxy as supreme predator. Not that any of these females would become the rarely found Huntress of a Hunter's dreams. From birth they had been coached that their desirable duty was not only to learn the ways of the Yautja, but to become the Bearers of the future. The training was customary, and would allow the most desirable Bearers to surface, but their fate was not doubted or questioned – they would all become Bearers and one would become Supreme Matriarch.

Aldúlfr and Myn'dill stalked into the room, causing all the students to become immediately silent out of respect. "Line up," growled Myn'dill, pointing to the far side. Without a word, the young females sprinted for the wall, jostling each other for position. "Quiet! Pay attention!" roared the Healer as he and the Elder quickly traversed the kehrite circles and stood before the now attentive students.

The Trainers looked over the line-up and walked it several times, occasionally stopping to mutter in low tones to each other. Then, Myn'dill picked out pairs of them and rearranged the line so that each female was now aligned with her partner.

With deep growls, the Trainers jumped into one of the arena rings and began to circle each other as the wide-eyed pups swallowed the details of every move. When the Hunters were satisfied they had made sufficient demonstration of how to circle a sparring opponent, the students were allowed to try it. Two pairs at a time they practiced under the eyes of a watchful Trainer. Each duo of circlers crouched, performing the delicate movements of orbiting an imaginary center within the ring while facing and sizing up an opponent – all while remaining inside the line delineating the round. It would be practiced over and over until the movements became automatic and full concentration on sizing up the opponent while looking for an opening to attack could be made.

Several of the females made missteps and nearly lost their balance, others put a foot on the line or even completely out of the circle. Each time an error was made, a correcting bark alerted the student. If the student was slow to learn and continued to make errors, the bark became louder. If the student still did not correct herself, a cuff to the head or shoulder was issued, and more practice time set aside. As expected, Ulfrde managed the exercise easily, her strong grace belying the fewness of her years.

Aldúlfr was determined that all these females would become accomplished in the arena, and that all would pass their Chiva. So he pushed hard, his patient but unrelenting instruction designed to eventually create perfection. By mid-cycle, some of the females were showing fatigue and starting to stumble a bit in their circling.

Wise Myn'dill placed a hand upon the Arbitrator's shoulder saying quietly, "Even we needed more than a single cycle to learn this teaching." Aldúlfr called a rest period and the females gratefully stopped practicing. "Outside!" he ordered, "You must keep moving to avoid pain in your muscles. Walk around the entire running track, then come back in for water and a light meal. This afternoon, we will foray into the jungle and you will learn to identify different plants and what they are useful for - should you need to depend upon Yaut's jungles for your survival."

A few grumpy faces greeted his announcement. _Plants? _Thought Ulfrde, _I want to learn to hunt, not about plants! _As if answering her thoughts, the Arbitrator continued, "The survival training is required before we venture into the deep jungle teaching you to hunt. Be patient, small ones. Know that this is exactly the training that each of us adult Hunters went through on our way to becoming Blooded." He kept from the students the fact that their training as Hunters had been much harsher and less explanatory than what these small females were experiencing. All of the Sires and Hunters had grown very close to the little pups while they had participated in their early instruction. No Hunter would admit it, but it was difficult to be brutally tough when there was such a connection. This was only one of the reasons that in Yautja tradition the females raised the pups on their own until they were ready to leave their Bearers and go into full-time training.

It was the Honorable Trainer Theron who led the group into the jungle later that cycle. All the females were strung out in single-file behind him, with groups of guardian Trainers flanking their movements although they were seldom seen through the thick growth. Led along by the slight grey Hunter, the students tried to emulate him and move silently. Abruptly, he motioned for them to all crowd around as he stopped by a particularly thick vine. As they clustered about him, he widened his mandibles in challenge for their attention. Then he began to quietly show them how to identify the plant and how to slice it open to obtain water. The succulent stem was full of the life-giving liquid and he held up a section of it, showing how to squeeze a small downpour into his mouth. Each pup then cut a section for herself and gave it a try.

Signý had long admired the courter of her Bearer. He had been around ever since she could remember. Nevertheless, it had only been just before Melanie returned to Earth, the place the Yautja called the Blue Planet, that she realized the Hunter had been seeking to mate her mother. The young female had been exposed to the leakage of his musk on occasion and had savored the heavy undeniable maleness of the scent. It had aroused her, although she didn't know what to name it at the time. She only knew that after taking many huffs of the incredible fragrance she found left as a seductive trail in her home's hallway, she had not been able to find sleep that night.

Lying in her bed, her body had quaked with an unknown excitement as her young sensory nerves still vibrated with an overload of male pheromones. She had not understood it at the time, and still, even after the Matriarch's teachings, did not completely comprehend. Full understanding would not come until her body matured enough to begin her first breeding season. For now, she simply knew that she liked being around Theron. She enjoyed watching him and hearing his voice, and was dismayed to find that he had not emitted that delicious odor since her Bearer had gone home.

She lifted up the vine piece divided from the main plant by her small sharp knife, held it up over her open mouth and gave a hearty squeeze. Cool, wonderful water came from the stem, cascading into her open jaws. It refreshed and she enjoyed the slightly tart taste that came with it. She kept squeezing as the stem kept oozing its water store. Suddenly, she felt something pop beneath her hand and then sensed it hitting the inside of her mouth. Surprised, she slammed her jaws shut, and then realized that something was wriggling inside her mouth! Spitting with all the power she possessed, a large disgusting wad of something shot from her maw and splatted against the tightly muscled stomach of her Trainer.

Theron looked down at the gooey remains running down onto his cloth. "That was the creature I warned you about if you insist on squeezing every drop of moisture from the stem. Were you not listening, Signý?" His stern voice overrode her disgust of nearly eating a larva. The hesitant female looked up at her Trainer to see noiseless chortling greeting her from his gray eyes, but her shame was too great for her to register Theron's amusement.

Paya! _I spit it on him! It is splattered all over and is running down his cloth. Oh Cetanu, slay me right now! How stupid of me! _Shades of green encompassed Signý's face and she looked at the ground. _I will never overcome this dishonor._

"Don't look down," he said, determined to show her more mercy than he had experienced in his training, "there are times when all of us must learn from experience rather than from the words of another. I know you will not make that mistake again."

Signý felt one of her sisters poke her in the back as Theron turned and once again led the students down the path to another plant. "Signý wants to pauk Theron!" She heard the sing-song whisper behind her and whirled to growl in the face of her antagonizer, "Shut up! I was embarrassed for doing something so stupid, if you must know. Shut up or I will rip off one of your mandibles!" A rumble of reproach came from the side and both females hustled to regain their places in the march.

* * *

The Matriarch had requested an audience with the High Council. As Sig'dan had just returned from his mission of escorting Melanie back home, he accompanied Sally as translator. They were walking, with Sally's ever-present escort of guards, on the pathway to the High Council Hall. "So, how did you leave her?" she asked.

"I…left her just like I arrived at the Blue Planet – on the transport," replied a confused Sig'dan.

Sally grinned, "What I meant was, how did Mel seem to be feeling when you left her?"

"She was very happy to be on Earth, I observed. She requested that I take her to a small settlement where she said that she had attended some sort of training before she…before I took her away. Mel said that she had friends there and thought they would provide her with a dwelling and food. I am satisfied that she is pleased to be there. She told me that she would like to have Signý visit her from time to time and that she would prefer that I am not the one to bring her! Our own pup! I have never obtained her forgiveness, Sal-lee. I regret that very much."

"Well, you tried Sig'dan. You tried. We all tried to make things nice here for her, but she chose to go back to Earth. Like you said, it was her right to choose. And it's what I fought so hard for, my love, for the human women to have the right to return home after their pup was born. I wish her all the best in her life there."

"I just do not understand how a Bearer can leave her still UnBlooded pup behind," grumbled the Hunter.

Sally replied with a sigh, "Neither can I."

At the great Hall, the Matriarch and her party were ushered in to the main chamber. The High Council was in session this cycle, but other business had been shoved aside in favor of listening to the Matriarch. It had been a long time since she had stood before the High Elders formally. They were used to seeing her during their frequent pup visits, but now that their offspring were away being trained there had been no reason to visit the Matriarch.

They had always considered her requests and found most of them to be good and in the best interests of Yaut. Over the long cycles, she had gained credibility with the Council, with most of them now seeing her as a Yautja in an ooman suit. The law-making group wondered to each other what on the planet she might desire now. All the pups were progressing well in the training facility she had ordered built and indeed, she had even participated in drawing up its plans.

When Sally entered, the Elders all stood from their lofty seats and bowed deeply in respect to her – she was now not only their Matriarch, she was the Bearer of all their latest offspring. The human woman gave them the barest nod of recognition in return – a learned symbol of nominal respect that still kept her above the Elders in at least token ranking. Ever her friend, Myn'dill had taken her aside and explained that the great bow she had been giving them was actually a sign of submission, and could be taken as a wish to mate. Horrified Sally had quickly corrected her error.

"Honorable High Elders," she addressed them through Sig'dan, her posture tall and proud. "I have realized the vital importance of creating as many females as quickly as possible, in order to avoid all-out war between males during breeding season." The Hall exploded in the clicking rumbles of hilarity. When it had died down a bit, the Lead Elder addressed her.

"You have learned our ways well, most Honorable Matriarch. Please continue."

"I know that there are a large number of viable ova that were removed from me and are in storage. Since the first set of successful females has now entered formal training, I propose that as large a number as can be successfully grown, delivered and raised be immediately started."

"How large a number is that, Honorable Matriarch?"

"I defer to the High Council's judgment. With the right number of aseigan properly trained and assigned to help, I would think that we could raise perhaps thirty or forty at one time."

The High Council Leader raised his brows. "That is a great number. We would have to expand your living quarters first."

"I do not propose to raise them in my living quarters. Let us utilize the vacant quarters next to mine that were built for Honorable Melanie. Those quarters will be guarded, of course, and attended by aseigan at all times. I will visit and provide nurturing to the infants daily."

"Forgive my curiosity, Honorable Matriarch, but you will not be as close to this brood of pups, will you?"

"You are correct, Honorable Elder. This will be an advantage to your race, as the females will have less human contact and…human contamination."

The Leader stroked a side-jaw thoughtfully. "This appears to be an excellent proposal to benefit the Yautja. May I ask, most Honorable Matriarch, without appearing to be ungrateful – what do you gain from this?"

Sally gave a wry smile, "I intend to save my first-born girls from becoming Hunter bait. And I intend to save you Hunters from killing each other in order to mate the few available…opportunities that exist." She nodded in slight deference to the High Elder who was her favorite among the Council members, the smile never leaving her face.

"I understand that you are concerned about the welfare of your offspring and that you have grown…close in your feelings about certain of our Hunters. Your feelings are not alien to us, Honorable Matriarch." He returned her nod with true respect. "I assure you that your offspring will always be treated with the greatest reverence by our entire race. Yet, I also assure you that I speak for the entire male portion of our race when I gratefully accept your offer to quickly create more females. It is an excellent plan."

It was Sally's turn to softly laugh, "Good, let us begin as soon as possible. And, oh! I encourage you to consider allowing other worthy Hunters to contribute their seed to this project in order to create as wide a selection of genetics as possible for future procreation."

"We will consider your wise suggestion, Honorable Matriarch."

Two cycles later, Sally entered the growing room which now had forty artificial wombs in it. There was little space to navigate between the rows of benches. She watched as an air-borne Healer hovered over the wombs. While suspended from the ceiling by a harness, he took measurements and readings from the growing fetuses. She did not touch or talk to the babies – she had raised her family. These females were the future of Yaut. She would care about and perhaps even love some of them, but from a little distance this time. When they were born, they would not become her heart suddenly mobile and living outside her chest.

* * *

Sharp knocking on the front door disturbed the man from his afternoon nap in the great brown lounging chair. He had fallen asleep watching the football game – again. He was disoriented at first, looking around for his wife or daughter to answer the door, and then realized that he was there alone and must answer it, if it were to be answered at all. The game was over and the evening news was on. He tilted a bit, passing a post-game fart and then settled back down. Reaching over the arm side he tilted the chair handle forward to release his supported legs and then slowly heaved himself up. Steadying his balance with nearby furniture, he made his way to the door and looked through the tiny porthole.

Outside stood a vaguely familiar young woman with her arms clutched around her scantily clad torso. He thought she might be from the college. Maybe her car had broken down and she needed to call someone. It had been a long time since there had been college students in the old house. As his mind continued clearing from his sleep fog he remembered that it was winter and realized that the young lady might be freezing out there!

Hurriedly opening the door, he addressed her, "Hello, you must be freezing! Please! Come in."

The woman just stood there, with a bit of a shocked look on her face, "Please sir, is this the Montgomery home?"

"Why yes it is young lady, and I'm Newt Montgomery." He shoved a hand toward her and she did not take it.

"Mr. Montgomery? Mr. Montgomery? I'm Mel, your daughter's friend. Do you remember me?"

The man retrieved Melanie's information from his mental database, "Why sure! Now come in child, before you die out there!"

A shivering Mel stepped over the threshold. The man took another look at her near nakedness – even her feet were bare! He ran, or rather toddled, to the bedroom and brought back a warm blanket. "Here, wrap yourself in this Mel and sit down. Would you like some hot soup?"

"I would love s-s-some hot soup," chattered Mel's teeth back at him. She wound the blanket around her body and followed the kind man into his kitchen where she sat down at the small breakfast table and watched him open a can of soup. "Is your daughter here?" she inquired.

The man briefly hesitated and then placed the bowl of soup in the microwave. "Mel…I…guess you haven't heard. She died, nearly ten, no twelve years ago." He reached for a tissue and blew his nose, then dabbed with a corner at his eyes. "Hard to believe it's been twelve years."

"Oh my God, no! NO! I hadn't heard Mr. Montgomery. I've…I've been…away. What happened?" _Twelve years? I've been gone twelve years? Sig'dan said there was a time difference._

"Well, the police aren't sure. She just disappeared. No note, no indication that anything was wrong. She didn't take any of her stuff with her except her purse. We don't really know what happened."

Mel took in the troubled look on the man's face; there was something he wasn't telling her. "Uh, Mr. Montgomery, she was with me when I left Earth. I made it through the police barricades only with her help and, well, I had to leave, Sir. I was pregnant with one of those alien's babies and my family was trying to make me have an abortion, and – it seemed the only thing to do at the time, Sir."

"I know, Mel. Your face was plastered all over the news for awhile, and your families' was too. Your grandfather went on quite a rant on public TV," he smiled at her. "I'm trying to protect you from some bad news, Mel. The truth is that it seems my poor girl was killed by a stray bullet from the police. They think it ricocheted off the spaceship."

"Oh my God, then I'm…I'm responsible for her death! I'm so, so sorry…I didn't know," she wailed.

"It's ok, Mel. I forgave you a long time ago. She died helping you. I think she would have liked that." He smiled a sad smile. "The odd thing was…there was no body. Police cruiser cameras record her getting shot and falling to the ground behind another car. When the fracas died down and they went to help her – nothing! No body, no blood trail – nothing. Do you suppose she as only wounded and those aliens took her on the ship?" A hopeful glimmer flickered in his eyes.

"I don't think so, Sir. I was onboard that ship, and I think I would have know if she was too."

"Well, I was just hoping, or maybe wishing. Anyway, her mom died last year and it's just me here now." The microwave dinged and he placed a hot bowl of chicken noodle and a spoon in front of her. Not registering the spoon, Mel picked up the bowl and began to drink from the edge – Yautja style. The man watched but said nothing about it.

"So, you're back now?"

"Yes, they gave me a choice and I came back. I left my daughter there. She looks just like one of them! And now I have to make another choice. That choice is to either stay here and live the rest of my life, or go back there to live. Right now, I can't tell you how good it is to be back! I missed the blue sky, the smells, even the cold," she rejoiced.

"You can check my daughter's closet for clothes. Everything's still like she left it. My wife couldn't bear to get rid of any of it. Do you need a ride somewhere?"

Mel's face fell, "Oh God, I don't even know if my family will speak to me, Mr. Montgomery. I was hoping to finish college and become a social worker. That's what I was doing - twelve years ago."

"If you don't mind the company of an old codger, you are welcome to stay here Mel while you sort things out."

Mel jumped up and placed a kiss on the surprised man's forehead, "Thanks so much! I don't know what's going to happen, but I want to see if I can pick up the pieces of my life here."

The man regained his composure and gave back a brief hug, "It's good to have a female voice back in this house. Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, Mr. Montgomery."

"It's been twelve years since you left here, and you hardly look much older than when I saw you last. You still look like a college girl. What's your secret?"

"Interstellar travel, I guess and their planet is very healthy – clean air, water, all that. The aliens told me there would be a time difference when I returned. They sure didn't tell me how much! My god, I don't even know if my grandfather is still alive!"

"He's not, honey. I remember his obituary in the paper. But I haven't seen any for your folks, that's a bright spot, isn't it?"

"It is for sure!" Mel tipped up the bowl to enjoy more soup and was surprised by a tinking sound against the side of the stoneware.

"You might want to relearn to use this," the kind-faced man handed her the spoon he had been tapping against her dish. Mel stared at the instrument for a moment, and then took it to resume eating. "Thanks. I guess I just forgot for a minute."

"How long has it been for you, child? How long have you been away?"

"It's tough to say, their year is longer than ours. I'd guess about five years. It seemed like I was gone only about five years. Oh, don't look shocked, Mr. Montgomery. Those alien children grow really fast. I didn't leave a helpless kindergartener behind! And she has lots of friends and adults to look after her."

The man noticed how Mel's voice faltered a little bit talking about her child. Quietly he observed, "It must have been tough on you to leave her behind."

"It was horrible. But I had a choice to make and I wanted to come home," Mel replied flatly. "It was…and still is…a painful choice."

Melanie excused herself and went to her friend's bedroom to look for more suitable clothing. _No body? She was shot. They saw her fall and…no body. What in hell happened to it? If she'd been wounded and they'd taken her for breeding – I'd have seen her on that small ship. Hmmmmmm._

A short time later the man heard the sound of Mel retching in the bathroom just off his now-dead daughter's bedroom. _Poor girl. My wife used to get sick to her stomach whenever she got upset. I just never realized that Mel and my daughter had gotten so close._


	28. Resurrection

**Chapter 27: Resurrection**

_**I happen to like uncomplicated sex - Signourney Weaver**_

Yaut's hot sun shone down, as merciless as any of her Hunters, upon the pale body of the planet's Matriarch. Sally was taking a trip, accompanied by Sig'dan and ample guards, to visit the pups at the Training facility. It was not a trip that the Matriarch traditionally made, but then Sally was not a traditional Matriarch. The High Council had blessed her excursion with the provision of hovercraft transports for her and her large party after she had explained to them her desire to see the building she had helped design actually in use.

It was not that life back at her luxuriously appointed dwelling was bad. In fact it was very good. She had everything that she could possibly want provided to her by the generous High Council Elders, who were all extremely pleased at the positive progress the project to recreate the Yautja female had enjoyed so far. When he was not at the camp as Trainer to the pups, Sally enjoyed the companionship and attention of Sig'dan. They went on excursions together; she had even accompanied him on a small hunt in the jungle once and had been delighted at the lack of civilization for a few cycles. They swam, ate what Sig'dan provided, lazed in the shade and made love.

Upon returning to the city, they resumed their enjoyment of study – Sally continued to consume Yautja history, while Sig'dan tended new experiments. They met daily for her Yoga work out and Sig'dan's exercise and weapons practice. He had even begun to teach her how to center herself and compose her body in the crouch that led to sparring in the kehrite.

The Matriarch's relationship with her Consort also progressed. They had an unspoken arrangement of sorts and he did not interfere with her relationship with Sig'dan. Still, a Consort had to keep face. So when he was in the city, he infrequently called upon her to share a night in his quarters in order to keep up the appearance that she was still submitting to him. In his rooms, they often shared a bath and Aldúlfr would practice his English with Sally. She would tell him of how she met the Yautja, and of his first-born bloodline, Ulfr. The Arbitrator listened with rapt attention as she described how she had entertained the visiting Hunters and how her attraction to Ulfr had grown. Sally explained how she was overwhelmed by her feelings for Ulfr, and how he succeeded in talking her into mating with Sig'dan. Over time, as she warmed into her tales, and felt closer to the great Elite Arbitrator, she eventually told him how much his son had meant to her and how she saw shades of Ulfr in his Sire. And so the relationship that had come about first as a matter of safety by a worried about-to-die Hunter, and then turned into a true bond centered on the dead Hunter, now grew of its own accord and blossomed into something real.

But now, with the Hunters who formed her life gone many moon cycles as Trainers to the pups, Sally had grown restless. The dullness of an empty nest plopped down upon her and left her feeling without purpose. For so long the center of her life had been the creation, nurturing and raising of her first-born pups. But now, as she had deigned, this batch of pups was treated differently. The growing room was nearly overflowing with manufactured pup-filled wombs. They were all stable and well-cared for by the assigned Healers. There was nothing there for her to do regarding the unborn and she was overcome with missing her first-born daughters.

She missed the patter of their dusty well-used feet and claws on the polished stone floors, and their eternal vigilance as 'Young Pup Arbitrators-in-Training' while they sought out intruding creatures. They never had figured out that it was Aldúlfr setting the 'Badblood' threat loose in their home. His miniature training hunts had continued until all the children had successfully made a kill. After that, no more small animals had invaded. The revered Elder Arbitrator then told them that the continuous hunting and scent of blood must have discouraged any new four-footed raids into the house and congratulated them for protecting the Matriarch's dwelling so well. Twenty puffed-up pups paraded proudly through the compound demanding attention for their great deed. Sally had finally satisfied the Yautja craving for public honor by having a small feast to celebrate their emerging hunting prowess and inviting the guests to inspect the trophies which now covered substantial amounts of her Reception Hall's walls, much like children's drawings papering an Earth refrigerator.

Sig'dan piloted the transport as it followed the roadway to the Training camp, the Matriarch beside him with her now long hair tousled by the wind and honor rings clinking in her braids. The vehicle rode on a cushion of dense air that kicked up a wake of dust along its path. He would have preferred to walk or trot the distance, but such an exercise during the hot season would have been wearing on Sally. She had been on the planet for quite a few long cycles now, and he'd quit calculating the number of Blue Planet years that had gone by. He'd been keeping track because he knew that oomans experienced a very short lifespan compared to the Yautja, and that Sally had been well along her allotted timeline when she had come to his planet. Myn'dill always attempted to reassure him that she would live for a goodly time yet – long enough for the pups to pass Chiva and mature, long enough for a new Matriarch to claim leadership over them. But the young Healer and Hunter still worried. He knew every expression line in Sally's face, every pale colored hair that had slowly sprouted among the light brown ones. He watched as a few new lines formed in her face, and many new silvery hairs showed up in her now cascading mane. He liked the new white hair color that was taking over her tresses – white was Paya's color and something to be admired.

Sally always kept three braids on the right side of her face. Catching up her long bangs and hair from the side of her head, she would form the plaited triplet. Then onto each braid would go the honor rings. On the foremost braid she wore the rings gifted to her from Ulfr upon his death, on the middle braid she wore the growing collection given to her by Sig'dan, and on the inmost braid were her presents from the Consort. She was seriously considering braiding the other side if any more rings came her way. The right side of her head was getting heavy under the weight of too much metal! She feared that any more would begin to cause her hair to fall out! _That any woman should have such a problem, _she smiled inside, _to be loved and honored by three different Hunters from the same Honorable Bloodline. Truly I am rich!_

The craft slowed to make the turn into the camp and Sally's braids finally fell silent on her shoulder. Their tinkling in the breeze of travel had been pleasant to hear – a ringing, cheerful sound. It had filled her with optimism and she was eager to see how her children had progressed in their training.

She had tried to steel herself for the girls to be a little taller, a little more grown. But nothing could prepare her for their greater maturity. Sally dropped down to the ground from the car, ignoring Sig'dan's outstretched hand. He chided her with a tiny intimate tusk click only audible to her and perhaps any Hunter standing within a nok. She ignored his concern, knowing that her body was fit and strong from her daily workout, the Healer's attention and the extremely healthy Yautja diet of meat and plants. _If my old High School friends could see me now!_

The girls were lined up in formation outside their sleeping quarters, with an assembly of their Trainers beside them. The pups kept their eyes straight ahead, listening to any command about to be given, ready for inspection by the Matriarch.

Sally had been briefed by Sig'dan earlier regarding what would be expected of her. She pulled herself up into her most dignified posture and with a nod to the Trainers, proceeded to check out the students. Walking slowly along in front of them, she eyed each girl from head to toe and then toe to head. _My God they've grown! I swear they've each put on a good six inches since they left home. And look how much muscle they've gained! Do they lift weights all day? They are all…so beautiful! _Sally couldn't help the small sign of pleasure that teased her lips as she regarded her children.

When she had finished surveying the last of them, she turned to the Trainers, "I find these UnBloods to be excellent in muscle and growth, but what of their skills?"

The Trainers nodded in respect to her query with Aldúlfr stepping forth to issue the reply, "Honorable Matriarch, as Head Trainer, I invite your attendance in the kehrite to judge their competence."

Sally and her entourage entered the building and made for the arena. She knew the way by heart, having memorized the plans after spending so much time on them. She heard the increase of Sig'dan's huff by her side. "This is very exciting, isn't it? To see our daughters fight for the first time."

"Sei," came the low voice beside her, "I am also processing the Consort's reaction at seeing you again. It has been…some time since you two have been together has it not?"

"How can you think of such a thing right now," Sally's hushed voice rose a little in anger. "We are here to see the children! Nothing else!"

"Have you informed my Sire of this?"

The Matriarch did not reply as they turned into the arena portal and then found seats on the spectator benches. She thought about her beloved's words. It was true that the Consort had not made his occasional show of publicly asking for her to join him in some time. When she did join him, they would retreat to her quarters and simply enjoy each other's company. He had never approached her again to satisfy an energy that he knew was being shared with and gratified by his offspring. Sometimes they would even bathe together, the Consort appreciating the energetic back scrub that Sally willingly supplied. Without a translator, they still had found ways to communicate and had become what humans would call friends. Sally had never witnessed him huff at her scent again, or signal any sort of desire for her. Knowing of his disability, she never allowed her wandering thoughts to take her even vaguely in that direction when in his presence. How cruel it would have been for her to have perfumed the air knowing it would only frustrate him!

Had Sig'dan picked up on something in the Consort's behavior, or was he merely being his usual paranoid self where his mate and Sire were concerned? Sally wondered as she waited for the pups to take the kehrite. No one had to wait for long. A disciplined, yet enthusiastic line of pups marched into the arena where they lined up against a wall and waited while Myn'dill and Aldúlfr conferred together. Then the Healer revealed which pair would provide the first demonstration.

At his bark, two of the immature females stepped forward and nodded to their superior. Sally immediately recognized the Clan sisters, G'emeti and U'bal-n. Myn'dill gave them the briefest recognition back and then stepped aside to join the Elder Arbitrator as the girls stood together in the sparring circle. Another low, vibrating bark signaled them to begin. Being nervous at their first demonstration in front of their Bearer, the adolescent pups gave only a quick mock-shove at each other's shoulder and then sprang into the crouching, centered posture used by all Yautja before an attack.

Sally watched them circle, amazed and a bit saddened by the ferocious look each displayed and the aggressive rumbles coming from each widely framed mouth. _My little girls are gone! The sweet faces I stroked and kissed when no one was looking. The wide eyes of innocence, the bobbing too-big heads, the chubby little legs… _She returned from her musing when she felt a touch upon her arm and saw Sig'dan's look of concern.

"Why sad?" he whispered, keeping one eye on the now struggling pair in the arena.

"Later," she whispered back.

The pups had landed a few blows on each other but neither had succeeded in disabling their opponent or knocking her out of the circle. Sally tensed as one child drove a full-body hammer-hit into the other and rode her now capsized form out of the sparring round. A sharp command ended the bout and both children jumped to their feet to submit to the Trainer. He spoke with them for a moment before they returned to the lineup.

"He's telling them that while the winning blow was a worthy one, both contestants ended up outside the circle, so it is technically a draw. Part of the discipline here is to calculate what it takes to knock your competitor's back-side out of the area without also throwing out your own!" He chortled a bit as two more pups came to the circle.

This time Signý was facing down Xu'nan. They shoulder-shoved and then jumped into the assessment phase of the bout. Sig'dan bent to talk in Sally's ear, "Xu'nan is a bit larger and stronger, but my Signý is faster! This should be a good spar." He resumed watching and Sally looked at him – so eager to see his offspring's performance. _Little League on Yaut, _she mused. _Except there's bound to be more blood. I wonder if the parents ever argue with the Trainers here. _She could well imagine a Trainer sprawled out dead on the floor after an altercation with a disagreeing Hunter over some call on his child. "Her foot did NOT go over the line!"

Signý's foe aimed a strong shot at her, but the little female dodged it easily and came back with a hit of her own. Over and over the scene was repeated, until the pup taking all the blows was breathing hard and wobbly from exhaustion. "Do you yield?" Signý cried, loathe to rain any more punishment on her friend and opponent. The weary child answered with another attempted hit, and this time Signý's dodge spiraled around and turned into a punch that sent the girl clambering for balance and right out of the circle. A whoop of triumph burst from Sig'dan. Signý honorably helped her foe to her feet and then looked across the room as her Sire's outburst reached her. With eyes flashing she gave him a quick look of pride and then went to her Trainers who clapped her on the shoulder and grunted approval. The loser was counseled and also received a shoulder touch of encouragement.

Two by two the girls battled each other until the last pair stood face to face in the arena. Arndís encountered Ulfrde as the two largest and strongest in the entire class. Sally was nearly overcome by the horrible sound of their challenges to each other. "Now I shall show our Bearer how to properly clean a floor by using your locks!" Arndís growled to her shorter sister, who shot back, "Your fine long body would make a better floor cleaning handle!"

"What are they saying?" whispered Sally to Sig'dan.

"Just threats to each other. I'll explain later."

Ulfrde's powerful shoulders equated with an NFL linebacker's in Sally's mind. _And that's not padding! _she marveled to herself. _My God, she's huge. Thanks Ulfr and Aldúlfr – you have bequeathed the universe a woman Kodiak bear! Christ! She's not even full grown yet. Arndís you'd better watch out, I believe your sister may clean your clock!_

Arndís danced the circle very aware that her sister was the stronger one. Her only strategy was to try and be like Signý – avoid the hits, stay out of reach and wait for your opportunity to land a blow. The audience was forgotten as the lithe female focused on her muscle-bound sister.

Coolly watching her tall sister's moves, Ulfrde looked for an opening. She knew Arndís' strategy well, yet there was nothing to do but keep moving and stay watchful. Any hit her sister landed would be easily shaken off, so getting hit did not worry Ulfrde. It was important; however, to make a good impression on her Bearer, on her adopted Sire and on…well, everyone. As unofficial leader of the pups, it weighed on her to set a fine example in everything. She saw Arndís go off-center for just a nano-second and she leaped almost before her brain registered the change in balance, aligning her sister's body with the strength of her blow.

Arndís felt the arm of metal hit her torso and the whoosh of air leave her lungs as she doubled over. Her feet left the ground and she sailed backwards to land with her attractively growing behind spread over the black floor line. It was over before she had even attempted to strike. When had Ulfrde learned that? She didn't remember any of the Trainers presenting it in class. _Pauk her inventiveness! _

With as much dignity as she could manage, Arndís picked herself up off the floor and went to congratulate her sister. Ulfrde looked slightly up at her saying, "You are a most worthy opponent." Then she was caught up in repeated shoulder shakes by her very impressed Trainers. The Consort growled, "Well done!"

Sally sat in silence for a moment, then got up and looked across the kehrite until she caught the Consort's eye. She cocked her head questioningly and he motioned for her to approach. Walking across the arena she displayed all the grace and regality one could ask for in a Matriarch. The pups and Trainers all bowed their heads as she drew near. Giving a token response, she veered toward Ulfrde. "I am impressed, daughter." She used the familiar Earth term for her female pup. "You are becoming as strong as your Blood Sire, and his Sire, the Consort. I know that you have great things ahead of you. This is what I wished for you when you were still in the womb." Turning to Arndís she continued, "You did well, daughter. You are so tall and beautiful! Do not feel dishonored because your sister won, you bore yourself proudly and did no dishonor to your Sire's Bloodline. Your future and talents will come to you in time. You are both beautiful, my daughters. I am proud of you. I know that your Sire, Aldúlfr's Bloodline Honorable Ulfr, would be proud of you also if he were here."

Sig'dan had come up behind her, with permission from the Consort who also joined them. "I am proud of you also, blood females of my brother."

"As am I," the deep voice spoke behind them. "I am proud of you all! Now you are released from duty for the rest of the cycle. You may speak with your Bearer and Honorable Sig'dan. They will join us later for a meal."

The students broke the line and crowded around, greeting their mother and hearing her praises to each of them. Sig'ney ran to her father, Sig'dan. He caught her up as though she were still a toddler and tossed her into the air. "You have grown a great deal! What are they feeding you to cause such growth?"

Sig'ney clicked out her laughter, delighted her Sire was so pleased to see her. "Did I fight well, Sire?" she asked him after her feet were back on the ground.

"Sei, you did! You fought with your brain not just your might. Some study all their lives and never learn to use their brain during a spar. I am proud of you, Signý."

"I wish…that my Bearer were here," she said wistfully. "I miss her."

"I understand. When the Training breaks for the season, I can arrange for you to go to the Blue Planet to visit her – if you would like to go."

"Sei!" the child screeched, and then brought down her tones to a more adult pitch. "I would be grateful if you were to arrange such a trip for me."

Sally couldn't help but hug her girls and tell each how impressed she was with their performance. They all basked in her praise as the Trainers retired elsewhere to give the family reunion some privacy. Sally's humanisms were well-tolerated by most, especially if they weren't seen. Aldúlfr had led the Trainers away with a promise of some well-aged c'ntlip he had been saving for the occasion. Before leaving, he opened his heavy mandibles and muttered a few clicking growls to Theron who began to move toward the Matriarch. She nodded at his approach, giving him leave to speak.

"Honorable Matriarch, the Consort requests your presence later in the evening." The gray Hunter's voice was soft in her ear as he spoke in low privacy.

"Where? Where does he desire to meet me?" Her voice betrayed some confusion.

Theron's face turned a delicate tone of olive-gray and he replied, "In his quarters, Honorable Matriarch." He pointed to the section of the building where the Trainers lived. "If you desire, I shall accompany you so that you may locate it."

"That will not be necessary." _I wonder what he wants to try and talk to me about. Is anything amiss with the pup's training? Maybe he just 'misses' me? I'll have to tell Sig'dan and then make sure I accompany Aldúlfr after our meal this evening. Sig won't be happy. He's so selfish! He has me nearly to himself anymore – especially with Aldúlfr here at the camp. Greedy boy. _She smiled to herself. Her sex life with the young Healer/Hunter was amazing – more than she had ever imagined it could be. They were close too and not just because of the sex, although she couldn't decide which had occurred first, her deep trust and friendship with him or the fantastic sessions in bed that made her toes curl and her deep places ache just thinking about them. She suddenly clamped down on her memories. There must be no trace of arousal on her to torture the Consort.

At the feast that evening, Sally wore her softest buttery leather loincloth and matching top which crisscrossed over her breasts to give them support. It was a shade of orangey brown that reminded her of caramel. Around her neck she wore a leather thong adorned with blue and brown feathers – a gift from the Consort, and around her wrists she wore creamy leather cuffs adorned with expert stamping to form Hunt scenes. The cuff edges were laced together on the inside of her forearms. They had been a gift from Sig'dan to try and focus her elsewhere during her sorrow over the pups leaving home. She wore her simple adornments as proudly as a queen wore her jewels.

Before being escorted to her seat, Sally made for Sig'dan as though to give him a message. Nearing her lips to the side of his head she spoke, "Aldúlfr has requested me. I will see you tomorrow." Then she brushed his shoulder with her hand and turned to allow her guards to take her to the place of honor at the table head along with the Elder Trainers. She was seated next to Aldúlfr – between him and the Healer Myn'dill. Theron was next to the Healer and the other trainers and pups were strung down both sides of the table. Sig'dan had also been given a place of honor among the Trainers but farther down due to his youth.

_I knew this would happen, _he told himself. _There was no mistaking the quickly covered aroma of lust coming from him when we pulled in front of the camp and Sally walked toward the building. Not that I blame him – she is most desirable. It has been long since they have been together. I should be more generous with my Sire as he is generous with me...it is difficult._

Sally sat beside her Consort, greeting him with a closed lip smile while her sparkling eyes conveying that she was glad to see him. He widened his upper side-jaws in greeting as his golden orbs dilated. As they settled in their places, Aldúlfr reached beneath the table and casually placed one huge hand on her bare leg just below the knee. Sally caught her breath. Then he carelessly ran his taloned paw along her bare thigh, nearly chortling at her sudden stiff surprise. He had never done that to her before – not in a public place, and not since his early determination to pleasure her. Resting his hand at her leg top for a moment, he let the heat penetrate down through her skin before withdrawing. Then he made an almost undetectable huff and was pleased to scent her turmoil and tension at his act. With just a little more effort, he considered that her tension might grow into stimulation, her turmoil into eagerness. He clacked his tusks together in satisfaction and glanced wryly at her questioning face. There were answers to give her - after the meal.

It was difficult for Sally to contain her reaction when she felt the immense hand slowly pet the skin of her leg. Managing to maintain her decorum, she spoke with Myn'dill while feeling only the monster hand's pressure and heat as it painstakingly slid up to rest near her crotch. The hand most definitely belonged to Aldúlfr, but what in the hell was he doing?

"It is good to see you, Myn'dill," the Matriarch responded to the Healer's nod. "I trust the pups are doing well under your training."

"Sei," he replied, "Pups good. Matriarch good?" She seemed a little uncomfortable, almost self-conscious. He'd not detected that scent on her since her first days as Matriarch. Had she exchanged something unpleasant with Sig'dan earlier?

"Sei," she replied, with even more tension betrayed in her voice and scent. "I am good, Myn'dill. The new growing pups are good. Your Healers are doing a good job with them." Sally's mind was time-traveling back to the remembrance of Ulfr's hot paw ruining her hosiery in his display of under-the-table passion designed to flush the immature Sig'dan into showing his true feelings as well as fire her blood, she suspected. The memory of that blaze upon her thigh mingled with current reality as the blood swelled into her sensitive places. Turning her head, she gave Aldúlfr a long stare as he merely glanced at her and clicked. _What does he think he's doing? And in public at that! He's got some answering to do – after the meal. _She looked up and scanned down the rest of the table, pausing briefly to register Sig'dan's unmistakable scowl. Ignoring his unhappiness, she conversed with Myn'dill and Theron while trying to enjoy her meal.

"Theron." The Dor'an Hunter paused in his eating and looked at Sally.

"Yes, Honorable Matriarch."

"Signý would like to visit her mother when this class is given a rest – or time off or whatever you call it. Sig'dan has requested that I ask you to take her, as he doesn't want to spoil the visit for Melanie. He trusts you to take care of his daughter, Theron, and so do I."

The gray one's blood quickened at the thought of seeing Mel again. "I will escort her to visit her Bearer. I am honored to be entrusted with so great a responsibility. Should I take extra ships with us? My hunt transport is small."

"Yes, I will send other ships of Guards to accompany you. Although few on Yaut will know of the trip, so there will be no reason for anyone to disrupt it. And there are precious few who would challenge you, Theron. We believe she will be safe with you. The Guards are…merely a precaution."

"I will honor your trust, Honorable Matriarch, as well as Honorable Sig'dan's." He returned to his meal, barely aware of the taste of the meat within his mouth as his thoughts gathered on a single thought, _I will see Mel-an-ee!_

The feasting drew to a close as toasts of c'ntlip were made to the Matriarch, to the Trainers, to the pups and to Paya and Cetanu. Sally had picked at her meal, noticing that the Consort had eaten only lightly. _He can't be up to…that, can he? I mean…he can't. SO what the hell is he up too? I don't want to be pleasured by him. No more c'ntlip or any drink for me at this meal. I don't know what else is in it! But Aldúlfr is my friend, he wouldn't do that now that we're close…would he?_

The meal ended uncomfortably for several at the table. The Consort rose and Sally took her cue to rise with him. They bade the others a good sleep and then Aldúlfr led her to his private quarters. Sally didn't even glance at Sig'dan, not wanting to be haunted by the look on his face. She had seen it before – the widened mandibles, the stony eyes. There was no need to be tortured by it again. This was the Yautja way, Sig'dan had agreed to it and there was nothing she could do about it.

Once in his quarters, the immense Elder headed for the bathing room and set the tub to fill. Inviting Sally to join him with an open hand he then removed his scant clothing and entered the warm water to sit in his favorite spot. Closing his eyes he leaned his neck against the rolled edge and let his head tilt back, the glistening white locks roping down from his crown edge over the tub line, then around his broad shoulders to end in the water that had quickly filled the in-floor pool.

_So he's tired now and just needs our usual quiet soak. I can go for that, _thought Sally. Quickly, she joined him. Walking toward his now at ease bulk, she quietly dived and then swam up into his lap. Worming her way beneath one of his arms, she laid her head upon the plane of his chest and listened to the familiar beat of his internal drum. _So like Ulfr, and yet different. _The scene of now continued to blend with her memories of the bold and wise Hunter that had taken command of her body and heart. A single tear emerged from the corner of her eye to wander down the side of her nose. The unexpectedly painful memory of her Hunter knifed into her heart as though his death had just occurred. Unable to stop the tears, she turned her face into Aldúlfr's powerful chest and let them flow. wondering why her tiresome grief had chosen to re-emerge.

The Consort loved the warm comfort that came up nearly to his chin as he slouched on the bench waiting for Sally to join him. He felt her come close and perch on his lap, her usual clambering like a pup replaced by a little distance as she waited for his reaction. He sat straight up to allow her to stay above water and then was perfectly still, not opening his eyes or lifting his head. Unexpectedly, he felt her small face move into his chest. _An odd reaction, can she breathe with her face like that?_ His silent wondering was answered by a small snuffling sound and a new bath made of salt tears running over the space between his pectoral muscles. _She is making water with her eyes. Sal'lee has not done that in front of me for a very long time. It means something is wrong._

"Sal'lee?" the great voice rumbled, "Bad?"

"Sorry, Aldúlfr," she snuffled. "It's just that you remind me so much of Ulfr." Her head went back on his chest and muffled sobbing came from the middle of his chest.

_She sorrows still for my Blooded offspring. Their bond must have been strong. _Placing his hands to cradle her shoulders, he pulled her away and looked into her face. "Sal'lee. Ulfr here." He placed one giant hand over his heart, "Ulfr here" he then moved a single finger to touch between her breasts. "Ulfr no go. Ulfr here." Then he embraced her and pulled her up so her face rested alongside his. "No sad, Sal'lee. See Ulfr…see…later."

She pulled away and looked into the depths of the golden eyes that were bright with concern for her wellbeing. "See him again? Where? When?"

"See Ulfr…when…long…sleep Sal'lee. Looong sleep." The great head cocked at her, willing her to understand.

"You mean after we die, Aldúlfr? We will see him after death? In Yautja heaven?"

The Consort didn't know what the word 'heaven' meant, but he did comprehend 'die', so he nodded sagely, "Sei, Sal'lee. When die…see Ulfr. No sad. Ulfr want Sal'lee…laugh, sei?"

"Aldúlfr, you are so wonderful to comfort me." She stroked his face with both her hands relishing the soft stubble of his short facial locks under her palms. "Yes, sei. Ulfr would want Sally to laugh." She reached her face to his and placed a kiss in the middle of his downturned forehead. In return, he opened the limbs of his mandibles and gently cradled the sides of her head. Without thinking, she reached up and placed her hands over his jaws and pressed them into her cheeks. They stayed that way a long time, human and Hunter in supremely intimate embrace.

Locked in the bliss of Aldúlfr's four-limbed cuddle, Sally suddenly realized how she was holding Aldúlfr and remembered Sig'dan's over-the-top sexual reaction to it. "Well shit! Aldúlfr, I'm so sorry." She pulled away from him, feeling his mandibles slip easily from her cheeks and temples. Without replying he took her from his lap and then lifted her out of the pool. Climbing out beside her, he took her shoulder and guided her toward the dryer. The warm blast quickly evaporated the water from their skin and Sally remembered her first dryer session with Ulfr so long ago. It was when she was preparing to be with the virgin Sig'dan for their first time. The Consort's vast arms went around her and she felt the muscles contract as he lifted her to his chest and then carried her to his bed. _At least he's forgiving of my thoughtless mistake!_

Relaxed and warm, she shut her eyes against the glare of the overhead light and felt the bed go down when his bulk got in beside her. _Very much like Ulfr, the bed doesn't go down quite so much with Sig'dan._ She turned into his embrace and suddenly found herself pulled up to lie on top of him. His warm hands petted her hair and then ran down her back – the comforting touch she was used to feeling. As she relaxed from the tender ministrations, she suddenly felt tusks graze her shoulder as huge hot hands slipped farther down to softly knead her backside. "Uh, Aldfulfr? What's going on? Wanna let me in on your plan here?"

"Sei," he confessed and then gently pushed her shoulder tops, sliding her down his body until she felt something familiarly firm bump against her warming crotch. "Aldúlfr? What? How?"

He gave a clicking trill, "Myn'dill. Myn'dill good!"

Sally quickly rolled off to inspect what her body had run into. There, postured as she had never beheld it before, was a respectably firm and rather large Aldúlfr penis. "Myn'dill fixed you? Oh my God, Myn'dill fixed you! Uh, does it work?"

The intense golden eyes captured her within them as he replied with a liquid rumble, "Try…it. Sal'lee…try it." He lifted her once again to lie on top of him, and she understood that she was to run the show. He would stay as passive as possible in order not to harm her. After all…it had been such a long time for him, and he'd only had one human female before, Sig'dan's Bearer, and it was in the days before there was training on how to mate them.

Holding up a hand as a signal to wait, Sally backed herself down the mountainous body as she again eyeballed the upstanding member, comparing it with the two Yautja she'd mated before. _Definitely larger than Sig'dan, both in circumference and length. He looks about the size of Ulfr, if not a little larger. I'd really like some stedistim before I get on that bad boy, not enough to lose it entirely, but enough to help me relax. _ "Just a moment," she stated to her Consort, getting off him and slipping down the side of his bed. Going to the com, she punched in Myn'dill's private wrist code.

"Sei?" the Healer's voice came over the interface.

"This is Sally. Congratulations on your cure for my Consort, Healer. Would you please personally deliver a vial of stedistim to his quarters, as quickly as you can? I'd like a moderate dose please. I just need something to relax. Understand?"

"Sei, Honorable Matriarch!" The com went dead. In just a few minutes, the door signaled. Aldúlfr sat straight up in bed with a growl; he'd left orders not to be disturbed. "Hush!" Sally commanded him, waving her hand. Grabbing a fur for modesty, she went to the door and opened it to Myn'dill. He nodded in submission to both Sally and Aldúlfr. Then handing her a small vial, he made a speedy exit.

Looking around for water, juice, anything, Sally found only a bottle of c'ntlip. Not knowing how the medication would interact with alcohol, she opened the vial and tossed back the liquid drug straight. The bitter taste made her face crumple. Knowing what she had just taken, the Consort was immediately on his feet, pouring her a tankard of water that was kept on a high shelf. Sally gratefully slugged the cool diluting drink down and then spoke, "Ok, back to bed Honorable Consort. It won't take long for this to work."

The two climbed back in together, Sally once again astride the titan Yautja. She sat up on his abdomen, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath her as her legs stretched to reach around his colossal size. Although she'd never done it, Sally compared it to riding a large workhorse bareback, except this workhorse was brown and mottled, with scaly skin and regal white locks. She ran her hands over his beefy chest, appreciating his burley body and battle scars. All at once, the room began to spin. She gripped him firmly with her outstretched thighs. _Here we go!_ Taking a deep breath, she nodded to him and began to slide down his body acutely aware of every muscle underneath her growing harder and tighter with each movement.

Without even a rumble, the Elder reached to stop her and pull her back up toward his face. Cupping her bottom in powerful hands he carried the center of her heat up to his face. Huffing in the sweet, salty scent he slipped his little fingers to the insides of her thighs and spread them apart easily. Sally balanced in his palms and watched as his long tongue came out and tested her flavor. Then, with a rumble that vibrated as well as any battery powered tool, he pressed her crotch to his mouth and proceeded to explore her insides with the thickness of his rippling tongue.

"Easy, easy" she coaxed as he pressed into her and drank of her arousal. Ripe and juicy with excitement, she groaned as the thick base of his tongue moved against her sensitive places. Reading her signs of readiness which were not that different from a Yautja's, he lifted her away and placed her on his stomach near the now pulsing member. Sally backed and lifted herself to sit upon the barrel that was his thick rather flattened head and then slowly slid down the length of him watching his eyes grow wider in anticipation.

Lifting herself up, she carefully positioned over him. "Don't push," she warned. "Let me do the work!" He had been warned by the Healer to lay still and let her take control. Not daring to move. he felt her heat against his head and gripped the bedsides with his talons to keep his pelvic muscles still. With agonizing slowness, the human ground herself around on the broad top, trying to moisten it and allow entrance. Only when wetness ran down his shaft did she line up and begin to drop over him. The initial push was the most difficult. He felt apprehensive for a moment while she gritted her teeth and forced his rod past her tight pelvic bones. Stopping to draw her breath against the stinging pain, it died down a bit and she continued her slide.

Aldúlfr's talons pierced the layered mattress in his fight to remain still. The closed wet heat that was Sally loosened over him and then rapidly surrounded his flesh with her own. Slowly she rose back up about halfway and then re-covered him. Again and again she teased his body, daring it to release its pent-up store. Gently he began to move in rhythm with her, urging her to go a bit faster, a bit harder. To his delight she took the new pace with gusto and he felt his firmness grow even harder in preparation to spill seed.

The Hunter suddenly rose up and grasped her hips to grind her onto him while in the same motion he bent his neck forward and slammed his large tusks shallowly onto both of her breasts. Grasping her so, he plunged deeply, spurting his seed as she gasped and clenched on his hardness. He drove even deeper, finally releasing her from his tusk hold and roaring into the air.

Reluctantly, he laid back down examining her mating marks as they dripped red blood down onto his stomach. "Sal'lee…good?" he questioned, concerned that she had been injured.

"Sally goooood!" she breathed back at him, rolling off his still hard member to lie beside him. Instantly he was over her, nuzzling at her bleeding with his face, lapping up her blood and staunching her wounds with his healing tongue.

"More?" he pleaded.

"Sei," she huffed back at him, feeling her bones melt in his presence.

In one move, he left the bed and came around to her side where with swift ease he grasped her body and turned her over the edge so she was face down. He bent and then used his hands to move her legs from his path. With practiced perfection, he found the female entrance and pushed into it, the way now ready for him. Grunting his pleasure he started a merciless pace that soon had Sally gasping and groaning in rhythm to his work. As he mounted his peak, the thrusts became short with every push straining the end of Sally's passage. The woman rode the fine edge between pleasure and pain as the long-deprived Hunter ran a controlled jack-hammer into her grasping softness. Burying his root as deeply as possible, he punctured the skin on her shoulder top with one set of up and down tusks, his other massive set clacking down on air. Gripping her skin up into a tent he slammed at her, his pace lost in a frenzy of carnality as pent up seed exploded into the vessel of his desire. Finally releasing her skin, the Hunter sounded the Sire's bellow – a deep reverberation that nearly made the room rattle. It penetrated out into the building's courtyard and into the room where Sig'dan restlessly sought sleep.

_C'jit, now I must hear his pleasure. I've never had to endure it before. Pauk! I honor my Sire, but I do NOT want to share Sally with him. I wonder if he would be willing to make an arrangement with me, something that might benefit us both. I will speak to him when the moment is right…_

The following morning, the Matriarch awakened to a lonely bed. She reasoned that Aldúlfr must already be up, running the Training camp. She pulled back her fur and made to get out of bed. Only they did she realize the cost of mating with the Elder. Her insides felt bruised and battered, her outsides felt chafed. With a grunt, she slid to the floor and hobbled to the bathroom. After a painful pee she contacted Myn'dill, saying she had need of his services in the Consort's quarters.

The experienced Healer already had compiled a kit containing everything he thought she would need. Hurrying to Aldúlfr's room he enjoyed the feelings of success that washed over him along with random thoughts. _The repair obviously worked. I've not seen the Elite Elder Arbitrator in such a mellow mood in many, many cycles. Will this have any effect upon his career? I'm glad Sal'lee was able to handle it. He's pretty large. But I knew he would honor my request to let her take charge of the mating. Too bad she has no womb – but two of the new vatlings are by the Consort – so he should be well pleased. Her last blood tests showed increased signs of aging. I'm going to up the dosage on several of her supplements and medications. I believe she will continue to do well until either Arndís or Ulfrde is ready to claim the Matriarchy. Then her usefulness will be gone – except for continuing to utilize the batch of ovum we obtained from her. She will be honored forever in our Halls and stories._

Once with Sally, he quickly ran the blinking, buzzing scanners with his mandibles held in a serious pose. "Anything wrong?" she asked, getting only a grunt in reply as a sample of her blood was taken for analysis on the spot.

Looking at her he finally spoke in an unhappy rumble, "Too rough! Consort too rough." Then he prepared an injection and a salve for her use. The Matriarch eyed the injection – it was not the glowing blue gel that made its recipient scream in pain, but a rather benign shade of off-white. "No hurt," Myn'dill explained, as he seized her and sent the medication into her neck. Sally winced as the needle penetrated, but felt no more discomfort. She shook herself after her release, "Myn'dill! I hope that you never handle the Matriarch like that when there are others present! "

The Healer buckled back his outer jaws in a smirk, "Never…Sal'lee. Value my honor!"

As Myn'dill left the Consort's quarters, he chided himself, _I should have made other arrangements for his first time! Sally is lucky…no I am lucky that she was not seriously injured. Somehow I shall convince the Consort that he must be trained in mating an ooman female and for her benefit, I believe he needs to have a few sessions with a Dor'an pleasurer just to get the seed out of him and put his self-control back in place. The Matriarch is fortunate that he didn't split her in two! I should not have been so careless! _

Sally applied the salve left for her and hauled her body back into the bed, snuggling down into the warm furs. At least she didn't have to attend anything until the afternoon when there would be another demonstration of pup prowess for her approval. Then, she would attend another dinner this evening. The idea of eating anything made her want to puke. _I hope I heal fast from this medication, otherwise how will I explain to Sig'dan that I'm too battered to make love to him? He thinks that his Sire and I have been pauking all along. How can I explain without exposing Aldulfr's secret? _

_Gee Sig, we can't 'do it' cuz I've just had the living shit pauked out of me by your dad. Yea, your dad – his tool had a sudden growth spurt. Oh, you didn't know? Sometimes that happens… Good Paya, what if Aldulfr want to get together again this evening? I'd better talk with Myn'dill and head this off at the pass! You know what they say, 'An ounce of prevention is worth a pound, and he has got to be at least five pounds, of cure!'_


	29. Reunion

**Chapter 28: Reunion**

"_For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been'." – John Greenleaf Whittier__  
_

Warm Indian summer rains showered the freshly mowed lawn, washing the green scent from the air. Mel wiped her damp face with the bottom of her worn tee-shirt and stood in the shed doorway, watching the droplets fall and disappear within the just-topped grass. It was Saturday. The first Saturday after her college term had started and she was catching up on neglected yard chores before she went to work.

Mr. Montgomery kindly let her rent the second floor guestroom for a lower than reasonable rate. She did her best to repay him by helping around the place whenever she could. Mel held down two part-time jobs, one as a kitchen aid at the college cafeteria, the other as a housekeeper for a few of the large houses that overlooked the town from the high ground that Mr. Montgomery called 'Mortgage Hill'.

With her earnings and a small grant, Mel had managed to enroll in a few classes the past two semesters and slowly plod toward her graduation goal. She was hoping to eventually go for her Masters and become a Social Worker.

As the water drops memorized the young woman, Mel thought about her return to Earth. _I've adjusted pretty well and it wasn't too hard in retrospect. But I still feel out-of-synch with my classmates. I don't look it, but I'm older than they are and things changed while I was gone – the music is different, the fashions, even some of the words. I feel out of step with them and more comfortable with some of my instructors. That makes it tough to make friends. I just feel more mature than they are._

_I wonder how Signý is, and if she'll ever visit. What does she think of me…for leaving her? I tried to do the best I could by her, I hope she understands. There's nothing I can do about it now. I just need to concentrate on making the best life I can and try to leave the past behind._

Mel's thoughts finished themselves and she closed the shed door and then headed for the house. There was just enough time to grab a bite before she headed off to clean the Norman's oversized house. After enjoying a gooey peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich that she washed down with a glass of milk, she trotted up the stairs to don clean clothing before going up the hill. The tee and cut-offs were quickly replaced by a green polo and jeans. She looked in the mirror over the dresser and smoothed her hair with her fingers, and then her eyes dropped to habitually check the small pyramid of translucent material set upon a smooth black base. Sig'dan had given it to her when he'd brought her home from Yaut, saying that it would light up and signal her of any approaching transport bringing her daughter. It remained its usual drab, dull color. The young woman hurried down the stairs and the front door slammed behind her.

* * *

Back on Yaut, a violent wind storm was slashing its talons at the capital city. A blackish-green sky crackled with electricity as wave after wave of gale-driven sand scoured the stone buildings and pathways. Inside the arena of the nearby Training Camp, the tempest was ignored. In the middle of the floor, two threatening Yautja circled each other with their paired metal wrist blades at the ready. One large, his long white locks clacking softly together, cast a shadow over the much smaller, but muscular, female.

"Relax your shoulder!" the large one growled, "you cannot parry if you are stiff!" He reached his blade to her and then unexpectedly moved it to her other side. Her arm rose to meet him but did not match his change in angle. "If this had been a real fight, your stiffness would have cost you an arm!" he rumbled in disgust. "Try again!"

Over and over he moved his blade toward her as if to strike. When his blade stayed in the same direction, the female met it easily. But when it altered its course midflight, she had great difficulty joining her metal to his. "Enough," he finally said. "Go soak yourself in a hot bath, then have an aseigan massage that shoulder. We will try again next cycle." The smaller female nodded obediently and then ran off to clean and store her weapon before retiring to the bath.

Another female who had been waiting on the sidelines, stretching and slicing her blades through the air, took the floor to face the large Trainer. She nodded in respect to the hulking figure and then crouched and waited for the lesson to begin. This student was larger than the last, her toned body rippling with power. Giving a nod in return, the larger Yautja began to dance with her, looking for an opening to strike. His blades dashed forth like lightning, only to clash with hers. The clang of sharp edges as they connected changed tone each time as the metal met at different places and angles. The Trainer increased the pace and still the smaller one met his weapon. He was not using his full strength, but tempering it so that the match would last and he could observe her ability. Finally, she began to tire and at last allowed his razor edges to reach her flesh. Instead of piercing her, the larger Hunter merely gave her skin a shallow stinging cut – the penalty for allowing him close.

"Do you yield?" he asked.

"I do." Her blade arm fell to her side and her eyes found the floor.

"You did well, Ulfrde! You only lack size to someday be a formidable challenge to many – and that growth will come. You are dismissed to the bath."

The young Yautja sprinted away to polish her blades, pleased with the words of her Trainer and Sire, Aldúlfr. The tiny nick would heal quickly and the thin scar would serve as a reminder of today's lesson.

Up above the training floor, other Trainers watched the class and speculated about each student in turn. "I fear Ulfrde will best all of us by the time she is grown!" joked Theron, amazed at the rapid progress and skill of the female. "She could easily be part Dor'an!"

"That is because she is half ooman," retorted Myn'dill dryly, "and she is much like her blood Sire. You would have found him a worthy opponent, Theron."

"I would have enjoyed the challenge, Honorable Healer. So…who do you think from the High Council will try and obtain her submission?"

"I do not know, and it is not my concern. All these are spoken for by the High Council. It will be perhaps many pups in the future before any such as we are permitted to try for them."

Theron emitted an almost human-like sigh. "It is difficult to wait. And it will be much longer for me than it will be for you."

"It is difficult to wait," agreed the Healer. "That is why the Council has permitted the continued taking of ooman breeders. Only now, because of our Matriarch, they may return to the Blue Planet during their pregnancy – or even after they bear here."

"I know," Theron replied. Myn'dill could not help notice the shadow that passed over his co-Trainer and Blood Bond. "You are referring to Mel-an-ee?"

"Sei. I tried to obtain her interest, but she refused me – in spite of admitting her desire! We agreed that she would return home and see if she preferred being there to being here with her offspring and me. She said that she believed I was only interested in her ability to produce a pup. I tried to explain my reasoning, but she does not understand."

Myn'dill gave a small set of clicks, "What do you expect Hunter? Not only is she female, she is an alien female! Of course she does not understand your reasoning – any more than you understand hers. Are you giving up?"

"No. I will be going there soon to take Signý to visit her. I will see if Mel is…content there, or if she will return with me."

"Bring your desires down from the stars, Theron. Then if she does come back, it will be an unexpected gift."

"Wise words, my Blood Bond. I will do my best." The gray Hunter knitted his brow, "You are half Dor'an. Do you believe that I am dishonorable for seeking to mate with her?"

Myn'dill did not respond quickly. Instead, he waved his jaws in thought before answering, "I was taught to fight like a Dor'an by my Sire, but he did not teach me the Clan's morals. Seeing that I am only half your Clan, Theron, would you not find that teaching me not to mate outside the Dor'an Clan is a teaching done…a bit late?" He burst into chortles. "To answer your question - h'ko. The urge to mate is one of our strongest urges, and you have stifled your instinct for a very long time now. It is only natural that you should seek some outlet for it. Speaking further, you are only interested in an ooman female that you consider worthy – that is much more than most do. Most Hunters go to the Blue Planet and stop seeking when they find a candidate of the right age in good health. They have no idea of her honor or accomplishments. I think you are very Honorable, Theron. I find no shame in what you seek to do, but as you know, others from you Clan will not agree with my judgment."

"I welcome your words, Honorable Myn'dill. I have wrestled with my feelings greatly trying to decide. Finally I decided it was less honorable to live a lie than to admit the truth."

"So, you will take young Signý to see her Bearer. A word of caution, then. Normally I would never interfere in this sort of thing – but I safeguard Signý and you are my Blood Bond."

"What is it? I am listening," Theron encouraged him.

"Mel-an-ee may not be interested in you, but her offspring most certainly is." Myn'dill stifled any sign of humor over the situation.

Theron opened his mandibles in surprise, "I do not dishonor your observation, but I believe you may have misinterpreted. Signý thinks of me more as her Sire, or Sire's Bloodline. That is her connection to me."

"That is certainly possible, Blooded Hunter, but I have observed her during your spars and when she watches you train others. Her eyes are only for you, Hunter. Be aware!"

"But she is a pup yet!" Theron protested. "I have never scented her desire. She dare not mate until she passes her Chiva. She knows this!"

"Be on guard, Hunter! You desire her Bearer – have you been careful to control your scent around her offspring?"

Theron scrunched his inner face in thought while his side-jaws clicked in agitation. "I cannot say with complete certainty that have."

"Then you may have exposed her to your mating scent. Those powerful hormones can influence her to come into season before the proper time. You MUST not let her scent you again. It could be disastrous to her Chiva when her full concentration must be on the Hunt, not on mating. Do you understand?"

"Sei, I do. I appreciate your warning, and your wisdom, Honorable Myn'dill."

The Healer's voice grimly softened, "What will you do, Theron? What will you do if she indicates submission to you before her Chiva?"

"I will deny her, Healer! What else could I do? She is for a High Council Elder!"

"It could be quite difficult. Her scent will be extremely appealing – especially to one who has gone without."

"My honor is my life, Myn'dill!" he growled, almost threateningly. "My word is my bond!"

"My mind rests, then. I trust your honor and your word. I would not want any dishonor to come to you." He reached and grasped Theron's shoulder in solidarity. The gray Hunter returned the grasp, feeling privileged to be bonded to such a wise and noble Yautja.

"May I question you in turn, Honorable Healer?"

"Sei, ask."

"You are not on the High Council, but you are an Elder among Healers. Do you have a claim or interest in any of the growing females?"

Myn'dill's eyes squinted, "Why do you ask me this?"

"My curiosity is sometimes great. All of us in the Blood Bond have spent much time with the pups. You and Aldúlfr have the greatest chance of breeding any of them, besides the High Elders. I wondered if any of them caught your interest."

"My interests are mine to keep. Go prepare for your trip brash Hunter, and keep your questions to yourself!" Myn'dill glowered at the Hunter and spread his jaws in threat. Not eager to challenge the nimble and well-trained Healer, Theron made for his ship. On the way he encountered Signý.

"Do you need any assistance in preparing your transport, Honorable Trainer?" she asked meekly. "I am most anxious to see my Bearer."

"You may be of assistance," he answered, a bit more formally than usual. "The hull needs an inspection. You can run the monitor over it while I take care of other things."

"I'm honored to be of help!" the young female replied.

_Myn'dill is wrong. This is simply a half-grown youngling, eager to see her Bearer and eager to impress her Trainer. She offers no disappointment at not being inside with me – I would be able to tell. Myn'dill is an excellent Healer, but on this subject he is wrong._

While the Hunter ran through his pre-flight checklist, Signý covered the ship's skin with the monitor. It would detect any weakening in the hull and send in nanotechnology to strengthen worn or damaged places. The female used the device carefully, just as Theron had shown her. She did not want to embarrass herself or delay the trip by missing any spots. More modern ships had this ability built into their automatic repair controls, but Theron's ship was of an earlier age, so this had to be done manually.

As running the mechanism became automatic, the female's mind began to wander. _Perhaps as he grows into an Elder and his fame spreads, perhaps then he can obtain a more modern ship! I am certain he has greatness in store for his future. Will my mother be glad to see him? Will she be glad to see me? _Signý's work stopped for a moment as the truth of her fear showed itself. _What will I do if she doesn't want to see me? _

* * *

Back on Earth, Mel was just finishing up the residence of her newest client – the Morgan's. They had built a new palace up on the hill and moved in just a few months ago. The house was a bit over-the-top for Mel's tastes, but she could charge them a butt-load to clean it every Thursday and that is just what she did! The 'French country' inspired décor held plenty of places to collect dust. Every week she mopped the main floors, cleaned the bathrooms and did a 'deep cleaning' for some portion of the house. It was certainly a workout and she was very tired by the day's end after toiling there.

She put up the mops and buckets and all the cleaning supplies before going into the library to fetch the envelope left for her there. On Thursday's the house was usually empty. Mr. Morgan went to work somewhere in town. Mrs. Morgan had her morning at the salon, lunch with friends and then an afternoon of shopping. Their daughter was away at college, and their son, Zach, was usually out doing whatever wealthy Zach's did in a small college town.

The French doors to the library opened with the smallest click to reveal her sealed envelope left across one corner of the walnut desk. Mel headed for it and then realized that someone else was in the room. She came up short apologizing, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize anyone was in here."

Young Zachary Morgan didn't even turn to face her from his study of the shelves of titles. "You must be the housekeeper. Don't mind me. I'm just looking for something to kill time with."

"Oh. I'll just get my money and go then." Mel grabbed the envelope and stuffed it into her jeans pocket.

"What's your name?" A curious face was now looking at her. It was a pale angular face with cheeks ruddy from the outdoors. It was not a bad-looking face. The eyes were blue, beneath a shock of unruly wheat colored hair.

"Uh, yea. I'm Mel. I clean the house every week."

"Mom told me she'd hired somebody." He walked across the library and stuck out a hand at Melanie, "I'm Zachary – better known as Zach."

She took the hand, noting it was strong and conveyed the smoothness that went with many years of societal ease. "I'm Melanie – Mel for short."

"Do you live in town, Mel?"

"Down the hill. I rent a room there."

"Been in town long? I don't remember seeing you before, not that we've lived here long."

"Uh, I was born on a ranch out in the county. Then moved into town to go to college."

"What are you majoring in?"

"I'm studying to become a Social Worker. But I have a ways to go."

"A Social Worker. You know, I don't really know what they do." He smiled kindly down on Mel from what she figured must be at least six feet.

"I need to run, uh, Zach. It's been nice chatting with you, but I've got a class at six. Maybe we can talk another time."

"Sure, Mel. Enjoy your class. I hope we can talk again."

She backed away awkwardly and then turned and left, trying not to run and feeling very scrutinized. _He's kinda cute and kinda sweet. Wonder how old he is. He looks young. Geez Mel – town alien ho' is a cradle robber! I bet he doesn't know my story. He'll hear it soon enough from the gossips around here. I'm glad that Mrs. Morgan didn't care. She just smiled and asked me to not let any of them in the house if they showed up. HA!_

Images streamed into Melanie's head of Hunters sitting around on the delicate living room furniture, each with a porcelain cup of tea on their lap and a tray of cookies on the marble topped coffee table. A snort came out of Mel's nose. She looked up while closing the Morgan's front door to see if anyone had heard her and was relieved to see no one. Then she broke into a jog to enjoy the trip home.

Once in her room, she dived to the bathroom for a quick shower and dry, and then ran a brush through her dark tresses. Finally she made for her dresser. Pulling on clean clothing she glanced at the pyramid on the dresser top which was its usual leaden self. _No Yautja tonight. I hope Mr. Edwards lecture isn't boring this evening. I'm so tired I'll never make it through without falling asleep. I hate it when he talks to the board! _

The young woman grabbed her backpack full of textbook, note paper and completed assignment, and then plunged down the stairs. Mr. Montgomery was waiting for her, brown bag in hand. "Here Mel, I took the liberty of packing you some supper. I figured you were running late."

Mel gave him a peck on the cheek before grabbing the paper sack, "Mr. Montgomery, you are a godsend! If I ever find a man as good as you I'll marry him!"

"You do that!" he called after her, as she ran out the doorway.

The class proved to be everything that Melanie feared. The professor was unenthusiastically droning his lecture to the whiteboard as he scribbled on it. Something about 'guns and butter' was being graphed in vivid green and black markers. She tried to hear what he was saying and took a few notes after trying to reproduce the graph. Macro Economics was a required course, so she had signed up for it. Now she couldn't wait for the dreary module to be over with. Idly sketching things on her notepad, she desperately tried to stay awake.

Mel came to a bit when she heard another student sit down in the seat beside her. _God, I must have been half-asleep, I didn't even hear them come in, _she thought to herself, and resumed shading her drawing with the side of her pencil. A somewhat familiar voice spoke in a half-whisper, "That's a very good drawing. Is that one of those aliens?"

Startled wide-awake, Mel looked over at the voice and was shocked to see Zach Morgan. "I'm a transfer student," he whispered, giving her one of his nice smiles. Melanie smiled back and nodded, then finally looked down at her notepaper. There in the white margin was a fair rendering of a Yautja pup, eyes wide and upper mandibles spread as though giving a grin. Embarrassed, she tucked the drawing under her textbook and resumed trying to listen to the professor – who droned on for another fifteen minutes before giving them the reading assignment. When he was finished, he turned to the class and asked if there were any questions.

_Yea,_ thought Mel, _for the love of God what have you been talking about for the past hour, and why am I paying you for it? _She got to her feet, gathering her things.

"Do you have another class this evening, Mel?" Zach asked in a friendly way.

"Uh, no, thank God!" she answered. "Oh, sorry. I'm just tired."

"Is this class always like this?"

"So far, yes. Horrible isn't it?"

"Yes, it certainly is!" he agreed. "So, I'll see you next class then?"

"Yes, God willing, I'll be here." Mel managed another tired smile, before heading out for the bus stop. Zach followed her on his way to the parking lot.

"I don't mean to be forward, but may I offer you a ride home?" Mel looked up into the kind, twinkling eyes.

"I would appreciate that SO much."

The tired woman followed him to his car, a surprisingly modest green sedan and let him pile her stuff in the back seat. He drove her to her house, the silence only broken by Mel giving a few directions. Once at her place, he picked up her backpack and walked her to the door. "Thanks again, Zach, for the ride home. I truly appreciate it."

"You are most welcome," he smiled back. "Do you need a ride to class next week?"

"Oh, I don't want to put you out!"

"It would be no trouble at all, Mel. I'd enjoy your company. Maybe together we can figure out what that old bulldog is saying in his lecture!"

Mel laughed, and then answered, "Okay. That would be great. I'll see you next week then."

"Next week it is! Have a good week, Melanie."

She went in the house and then turned to see his car pull away. _Wow. A nice guy. What will they think of next? Wonder if he's got a girlfriend? Boyfriend? I've never heard anyone refer to someone as a bulldog before…how quaint!_

* * *

The orange planet of Yaut fell away rapidly and Signý 's heart raced at seeing it shrink. She had been in space before briefly as part of her training, but she had never left the planet's orbit. Strapped in the large cushioned seat she felt dwarfed by the chair's size, but knew that in time she would grow into it. The female wondered what she would be able to do after she was grown – how strong she would get, and what she would look like. After a while, her thoughts changed to consider how long her locks might grow and how many rings she might have on them.

The pilot noticed her quietness. It was not remarkable. Signý was often quiet and did not speak as much as many of her sisters did. "We are about to breach the gate. Look over there," Theron pointed. "The gate is that ring of light." Signý chattered her small tusks at seeing its splendor in person.

"So beautiful," she murmured.

"Sei," he agreed, and then they plunged through it, and came out almost instantaneously. "We must travel this system for a while, and then we will gate again," he explained. "We will traverse five systems, not counting our own, and enter a gate in each one but the last. The last is the home of the Blue Planet. You may unstrap now and go about the ship if you desire."

The female unfastened her restraining straps and got to her feet. The artificial gravity held them firmly on the deck plating. "Are you hungry or thirsty, Honorable Trainer?"

"I am both, young one."

"Then I would be honored to prepare us a meal, if I may do so with your permission."

"Sei, permission is given."

Signý went back to the gallery and set about preparing the simple rations that a Hunting transport carried. She found the meat store and carved two servings onto metal plates, then poured flasks of water and placed everything on the small metal table. Using a nearby com she informed Theron that the meal was ready. He placed the ship on automated guidance and unstrapped himself. Getting up from his seat he stretched and walked back to the galley where Signý had already seated herself. She made to stand upon his arrival.

Holding a hand up, he explained, "No need for training discipline on this ship. We are not in the camp, Signý. Training discipline is relaxed until we return. Let us simply enjoy this trip." The UnBlood nodded her head and waited for Theron to begin the meal. He did and she joined him in consuming the ration which was washed down with several flasks of water. After the meat was finished, they carried their dishes to the cleaner.

"I'm going to check in with the other ships and then we have nothing to do until the next gate. Please help yourself to the ship's library or the bath, Signý. Treat this like your home while we are traveling." He widened his upper mandibles in a sign of friendliness to her and returned to the command room.

The young Yautja glanced about. _I shall use the library. Maybe there is some information on the Blue Planet. I would like to learn more about where Mother came from, or rather where Mother is, _she corrected herself. _I wonder if Theron is still interested in mating her. And if she still has any interest in him. He is very desirable – even at my young age I can perceive this. He is intelligent, honorable, wise, and very attractive. I love the way his locks hang over his shoulders – with so many honor rings! And his gray eyes – such an amazing color! _

Signý daydreamed as she searched the onboard library via the reader for texts on the Blue Planet. She was pleased to find not only many texts, but several recordings. Searching their titles she found one that interested. It was called, 'All My Children'. _Probably a recording about how to raise ooman pups, _she decided, settling to watch the picture.

Up front, the Dor'an Warrior had completed his check-in with the ships that accompanied them. He ran an unneeded system's check just for something to do and noticed via his control panel that Signý was watching a Blue Planet recording. It was a primitive signal that had been picked up long ago by a transport and recorded. He had downloaded it from Yaut's main library along with many other recordings and texts. Theron had been studying Melanie's planet in-depth for some time now. He enlarged the picture on his viewer and joined the pup in watching the recording; perhaps he would learn something new. After viewing it for some time, he switched it off and went back to Signý's com, concerned that she might have some questions.

The female's lengthening locks draped over the hand that supported the side of her face as she watched the program. She understood the language perfectly, but not always the meaning and found the situations puzzling. The more she watched, the more confused she became, and started writing down the many questions that popped into her mind. What a perplexing place Earth must be!

Theron observed her for a bit before he intruded on her viewing. He noticed the puzzled look in her brown eyes along with her knitted brow as the voices from the viewer grew louder and one of the female voices began crying. He nearly erupted in laughter as a low rumble of reproach came from Signý, directed toward the drama's characters. His small choke made her look up at him.

"What do you think of it?" he asked, drawing a chair closer and sitting down beside her.

Switching the com off, Signý replied, "I'm not certain I understood all of it, but it would seem to be a guide on how to dishonor yourself. Is that what it is?"

"H'ko, small one. It was created for entertainment purposes. Oomans apparently enjoy this kind of a story."

"Are they really so emotional? And selfish? And only concerned with the acquisition of things, instead of their honor?"

"I do not know, Signý. Although I have studied them and speak one of their dialects, this will be my first visit to the Blue Planet. Remember that some tales exist to tell us how NOT to behave. Perhaps it is like that for oomans also."

"I hope that is so, Honorable Theron." Signý looked up at the Warrior with sincere hopefulness expressed on her face. He warmed instantly to the softness in her brown eyes and then quickly looked away.

"I have other things to attend to, small one. Why don't you search the library and see if all the recordings are like this one? I will announce when we are approaching another gate." Theron abruptly left the room as thoughts of Melanie dizzied his mind, _her eyes look exactly like her Bearer's! _

* * *

Every week, Melanie went to clean the Morgan's faux French house. Sometimes her new friend Zach was there and they would engage in some short conversation in between her chores, and other times the house was empty, it's great rooms almost echoing the loneliness of the single set of footfalls.

Without fail, every Wednesday, promptly on time Zach arrived to give her a ride to their boring class. Ever so slowly, they got to know each other a little better. Mel learned that Zachary boxed in his spare time. "Boxing?" she'd exclaimed. "Now who boxes?" Then she changed her tone to a more complementary one after seeing the hurt on his face. "Boxing is classic!"

"Would you like to come and watch some time? I'll warn you though that it can get a little bloody at times."

"Sure, I'd watch. I've never seen it in person." _I've only seen hordes of mentally-ill Hunters trying to kill me and my child – that's all. And spars between genuine Hulks where scales fly and green blood flows. What's a little boxing match between men?_

"Great! Actually, that's where I go after class on Wednesdays. You can tag along any time you like!" He seemed to glow with genuine pleasure that he would have an audience.

"How come I never see you banged up, Zach?"

He looked startled at the question. "Because I almost always win," he grinned.

"Humble aren't you?" she teased.

"Assuredly so, madam." He made a dramatic bow with his head as he was driving. It reminded Mel of the great Hunters dreadlocked crowns nodding or bowing in submission to each other. Compared to a Yautja, Zach's head was puny. In fact, compared to the Yautja, all humans were rather pin-headed Melanie decided.

"Okay, Zach. I'll go sometime and see how you do in the arena!"

"It's called a boxing ring," he laughed. "You make it sound like the Roman Coliseum!"

"Yea, I guess I did," she said, almost to herself.

Melanie couldn't wait until the mind-numbing class was over. The professor had reached new lows of lackluster tedium with his board-muffled speech and marker hieroglyphics. Several times she and Zach's eyes had met and he would make a face of sleepiness or roll his eyes up until only the whites showed. She had responded to his antics with soft smiles which she realized only encouraged him further. But the class was so dreadful she was willing to reach out to any entertainment, no matter how small.

After class, Zach drove Melanie home. Quietly entering the house, she saw that her landlord had gone to bed. She crept up the stairs and began to get ready for bed. Taking off her earrings she moved to place them on the dresser tray when she saw the pyramid begin to glow. It was a dim spark at first, coming from the center of the crystalline object as a bright red dot. It grew until it completely filled the small beacon and her room was bathed in blood orange brightness.

"She's here!" Mel spoke to the dust wavering in the vivid light. "What should I do?" She imagined her daughter coming up the walk and ringing the doorbell. "I can't have her risk coming here!" Melanie wracked her brain and then remembered Sig'dan's instructions from the past, "Take the beacon and go to an isolated place – an open field. The ship will find you." Stuffing the small dazzling light into her backpack, she hurriedly crept back down the stairs and began to run towards the edge of town, her mind shuffling through a dozen places she might go. Thanking her still able body, she set a blistering pace out toward the open fields.

* * *

The young female Yautja could not help but quiver with anticipation as the craft drew near the stunning Blue Planet that slowly rotated displaying its varied land masses, azure oceans and white gaseous clouds. A single shining moon rotated around the sphere. Signý was amazed at how large the moon was relative to the planet.

"Time to strap in," Theron ordered from the pilot's seat. The youngling was immediately beside him fastening her safety harness and snugging it tight. Technically, a grown Yautja could simply grab a handhold and maintain themselves safely during most any landing or takeoff. The harness was simply a precaution for the UnBlooded not-yet-grown Yautja and for Theron too, as he was being particularly careful on this mission. No harm would befall the offspring of Mel-an-ee!

The small ship was cloaked well before it came within the Blue Planet's system. Theron's transport entered the space alone as the guardian ships stayed on the edge of the small yellow star's orbiting pack of comets and planets. The gray Hunter scanned the planet searching for a certain frequency, a pinpoint in the spectrum that when viewed by a human eye was reportedly a dazzling heat-like hue. "There she is," he muttered, his erratic clicks betraying anxiety. The silver space vessel made a banking turn and headed to rendezvous with Melanie's beacon.

There was a bump as the hard alloy shell met with the denser part of the planet's atmosphere and used the thicker gases to assist in slowing. Signý swiveled her head trying to take in all the clouds as they punched through into the lower layers just above the globe's surface. The youngling gasped and even Theron was unprepared for the sight of so much green. They had emerged from the cloud cover over a vibrant plain of life. What seemed to be plants grew everywhere, as far as one could see, and in some places, large herds of brown or black creatures were gathered together eating, drinking or just resting in the moonlight.

The ship uncloaked to become visible for Mel's benefit and then moved very slowly over the fields until it hovered for a moment before descending as though some giant puppeteer were lowering it on a steady string. Melanie was amazed again to see how the alien ship seemed to merely float above the ground. It came to gentle rest, making no sound as it contacted the Earth. Then the doorway opened and a ramp emerged. As excited as she was, Melanie waited to see who would come out. What if it wasn't her daughter, but some strange unknown Hunter? A cold fear accompanied that thought but was erased as a gray, fully armored Hunter descended the ramp, looked around and then beckoned behind him. Melanie was off, sprinting across the meadow as fast as her feet could fly. She came to a dead stop when the next Yautja walked down the ramp.

A tall, unknown one came to stand beside the gray Hunter. Mel could see it was female; the smallish breasts were slightly covered with cloth. The "she" stood perhaps a head shorter than the Hunter and her muscles bulged beneath the shoulder plates, and stood out on the sides of her short cloth. _Signý? Could this female be my little Signý? I've not been gone that long, have I? How did she get so tall?_

The Hunter clicked and both removed their masks, the female tossing her dark locks which as yet bore no rings. _Her face is…stronger, more mature. Where is my little girl? Is she in there? _

Melanie began to walk toward the pair who had already spied her. They waited for a moment, and then the female was off sprinting towards the human woman crying, "Mom! Mom! It's me, Signý!" She rushed to her mother and stopped as she read the uncertainty in her Bearer's body language. "Mom," she said, "It's me, your daughter."

The voice was finally recognized, deeper and older but still belonging to her child. "Oh baby, I know it's you!" Melanie's arms wound round her daughter's broad frame and they stood embracing. Theron remained a respectful distance away, scanning all around for any danger.

"You've grown so much that I'm nearly speechless! Let me look at you!"

Signý backed and did a slow turn for her mother. "I'm training with weapons now, Mom! And we're going on a real hunt soon!"

"That's…a…that's just great! I'm very proud of you, young lady!"

"Come on, Mom. Come on the ship with us. We have so much to speak about!" Melanie stopped cold at the invitation.

"Uh, I'm so glad to see you, honey. But I'm not really comfortable getting on that ship."

Signý did not hide her shock, "You are not? But why? That makes no sense." Then realizing she was dishonoring her Bearer she bowed her head, "Honorable Bearer, I do not question your judgment. I was only surprised at your reaction."

"It's okay, honey. Let me greet Theron. That is Theron with you isn't it?"

"It IS Mom! Just like you asked. He doesn't look it, but he's very excited about seeing you again."

"He is?" The two females leaned toward each other speaking quietly in feminine conspiracy. "I'm looking forward to seeing him too! " Arm in arm, they walked to the Hunter who couldn't help but open his top outer jaws in a grin.

"Honorable Mel-an-ee, I trust you are well?"

"I am, Honorable Theron. My daughter wants us to visit on your ship. Can you assure me that I will be safe there, and that I will be allowed to leave and return to my home once we have finished our visit?"

Theron's spirit sagged, "Yes, you have my word. You are safe as long as you are with me. You may leave the ship at any time and go wherever you wish."

"Let's go on board then. We have so much to catch up on."

The gray Hunter followed the two chatting females up the ramp and into the light of the ships interior. The walkway closed behind them and all was invisible to the human eye – once again.

Inside the craft, Signý led her Mother to the galley which was the only place onboard where three could comfortably sit and converse. The woman gave a hop and tried to get up upon the Hunter-sized seat. "May I assist you, Mel?" the still smooth voice of Theron asked.

"Sure." The gray Hunter carefully took hold of Melanie around her waist with his very large hands and lifted her up to place her gently upon the chair and then stood watching, as Signý seated herself near her Bearer. She scrunched her brow at Theron and then realized he was waiting politely to be asked to either join or leave.

"Mom, do you mind if Theron joins us, or would you rather just visit with me?"

"Oh. Uh, no, I don't mind if he stays – as long as you don't."

"Please join us, Honorable Theron," Signý was pleased to have his company during her visit with her Mother. "Honorable Melanie, may I get you anything? A drink perhaps?"

"You know, I did become accustomed to c'ntlip during my stay on Yaut. Do you have any?

Signý looked at Theron who answered, "Certainly, Mel. I will pour for all of us." The muscular Hunter went for the flasks and bottle of alcohol and poured them each a portion.

"Whoa!" said Melanie when her flask was just one-third full, "That's plenty – cheap date here!"

Theron and Signý looked at her, puzzled with the new phrase. Mel read their faces and responded, "Oh just a dumb Earth saying, pay it no mind." She picked up her drink and raised the glass to them, "To seeing my daughter again!" she said sincerely, and then turned to Theron, "And my friend!" His eyes warmed at her toast and they all slugged down a swallow of the burning liquid.

Signý began the conversation, her mind bubbling over with questions and finding it hard to know where to begin. "Honorable Melanie," she started.

"Please, just call me Mom or Mel, honey."

Signý began again, "Mom, how are you? What are you doing with your life here?"

"I'm good, honey. I work – I have a couple jobs, and I go to school."

"You are in Training, Mom?" Signý couldn't hide her amazement, "I thought you were grown!"

"I am grown!" Mel chuckled, "This training is for my career – the job that I want to devote myself to doing."

"Oh. And what is it?" the curious young Yautja asked.

"A job called Social Worker. I want to help other people who have problems."

"What kind of problems?"

"Well, honey, I want to help other women who have been through what I went through. You know, being uh, taken to Yaut and having a child there and then…coming back here."

Signý didn't know what to say next. She sat and looked at the table for a time. Finally Mel broke the silence, "I've missed you, Signý ."

"I've missed you Mom – so much. Can you help me understand? Why did you leave?" Theron's hearing pricked at her question and he leaned forward eager to hear the answer.

"I'll try honey. As you know, Earth is my home. I was born and raised here and, until your Sire took me away, this was the only planet I had ever been on. My mother and father are here, along with other relatives and my friends are here too. Things here are very different than Yaut and I just missed being here."

"Did you miss all the plants?"

"Well, yes. And the smells and the trees and animals and other people. And I missed the way things are here – the way our society works, and going to school and learning. You see I was already enrolled in school and knew what I wanted to study before I was taken. I couldn't forget my life here, my dreams, my goals. The only thing that made me stay on Yaut so long was you, my daughter. I wanted to raise you the best I could until you were ready for your training.

After a while, I realized that I wasn't adapting to Yaut very well – not like Sally, your Matriarch. I never did feel like I fit in, even though others, like Theron, offered to help me. So I wanted to return home and I wanted for you to have the best start in life possible. I came to realize that as a human I was hindering your growth as a Yautja. So, I came home.

Signý and even Theron looked surprised. "You were hindering me, Mom? How?"

"Oh, in a thousand tiny ways. I hugged and kissed you when no one was looking. Those are things a human mother does to her baby, but not a Yautja mother. We, Sally and I, wanted each of you to be raised to become excellent Yautja mothers. I mean, you are the saviors of your race! I think she did a much better job than I.

I never could get used to the hunting. I felt sorry for the poor animals you and your sisters hunted and killed in the house. I tried not to let it show – but I'm sure it did at least a little. And the idea of you learning to fight and use dangerous weapons and going on dangerous hunts! Honey that goes against all that is in me. So you see, I had to leave. Can you understand? Can you forgive me? It was a hard, hard decision to make – but I did it for both of us."

Signý just looked at her mother, trying to digest and understand all her words. Theron took this opportunity to join the conversation, giving Signý some time to think. "Mel, are you happy here?"

"Yes! I am. I have a good place to live and school is interesting and I have friends."

"You do not have a mate then?" A hopeful glimmer passed over the Hunter's face.

"No, not yet. I have recently met a very nice young man, but I don't know if he's potential mate material yet or not."

Signey responded quickly, "Is his honor not evident? Does he have trophies to prove his worth?"

Melanie smiled, "We do not do things here the way they are done on Yaut. I will have to take the time to get to know him, form a relationship and then I'll make the judgments of his honor and worth. It takes time – and he'll be judging my honor and worth also. Then if we both desire it – we'll become lifetime mates. After a while, we'll have children and enjoy our life together as a family. It is different than what either of you know, but it is what I want.

"You know, when I was taken to Yaut I was barely an adult. I think that many of the things I went through there helped me to become more mature. I did what I thought was best for you Signý , and I know what I want for myself."

Melanie turned now to Theron, "And that is why I didn't pursue a relationship with you. I was afraid it would interfere with my goals."

"So you were interested in him!" Signý interrupted "I thought so!" Then she quietly added, "And I knew he was interested in mating you." Theron whirled his head to the young female, his locks clanking with the turn, and regarded the youngling as he spoke to Mel.

"Honorable Mel-an-ee, you are wise. I respect that you did what you thought was best for your offspring, and after hearing you tell of it, I agree with your decision. I respect your decision to do what you want for yourself also, even though I regret that you do not wish to become my mate. I will honor your decision." He nodded his head somberly.

Signý blurted out, "Well, no one is asking me, but I think it is sad that you both like each other and that you won't take Theron as your mate, Mom!"

Now Melanie joined Theron in staring her daughter down, "You are right, Signý. No one asked you!"

"Sorry," mumbled the youngster.

Theron could not suppress an expression of mirth, "I appreciate your support for my cause, small one!"

They talked on into the evening with Melanie exchanging stories with her daughter about her new life on Earth, and Signý telling her Mother about her adventures in the Training Camp. Melanie did not ask about Sig'dan, so her daughter wisely said nothing of him. Mel seemed only interested in what had been going on with her daughter. She eventually learned that the pups had all gone through an engineered growth spurt in order to ensure that they would all grow into the normal robust size of a Yautja female.

It grew late and Melanie eventually found herself talked out. "I'm so glad you came to see me! Will you come again?"

"I will Mom! Every chance I get!"

The pair embraced and the human woman kissed her daughter's cheek. Theron's voice interrupted their goodbye, "Mel-an-ee, may I accompany you home to ensure your safety?"

"Well, yes, Theron. That would be very nice of you, but I wouldn't want to risk someone seeing you. I don't mean to offend, but it would be very difficult for me to explain."

"I will cloak, Mel. No one will see me. Your daughter has no cloaking with her, so she will remain here on the ship. Have you both completed your farewells?" Theron seemed rather formal and stiff to Mel, but she thought that reasonable considering her rejection of him. She embraced her daughter one more time, "Take good care of yourself, honey. I'm proud of all you're accomplishing. I know that you have a great future ahead of you."

"Thanks, Mom. You take care too. I hope that you have everything you want here."

"Thanks, honey. I do too – but I'll always want to see you. Don't forget me."

"I won't Mom. You won't forget me, will you?"

"Never!"

Theron cloaked and accompanied Mel down the rampway. Carefully he followed her home. Signý watched her Mother as she walked away into the night, followed by a tall blur.

**AN: I know that many of you have been rooting for Mel and Theron to hookup. I sympathize. I did consider it and even tried to work it into this story. I find that I cannot. I am considering another story with Mel as the main character. Until then, please enjoy the adventures of the pups as they grow up, and Sally as she continues her assimilation into Yautja society. Oh, and I've not forgotten about Duncan out there in the woods. Stay tuned…**


	30. Pauk-Ed

**Chapter 29: Pauk-Ed **

"_Sex without love is a meaningless experience, but as far as meaningless experiences go it's pretty damn good." ― __Woody Allen_

The Healer Myn'dill was deep in thought, pondering how to deal with this latest situation. After much formulation and experimentation, the brilliant Healer had indeed found a way to mend the Consort. When faced with a fully functioning body, Elder Aldúlfr had done what anyone would have expected him to do – he had requested the Matriarch's submission. He had, of course, gained it. Myn'dill had no doubt that Honorable Sally would do right by her public oath to the Arbitrator.

He'd been concerned about how Aldúlfr might treat Sally – not that he would intentionally hurt her, but the behemoth had precious little experience mating oomans. Sig'dan's Bearer had been one of the few the Arbritrator had bred and she was the only one to give him a pup. Back in those cycles, there had been no studies in how to breed oomans or any mating Hunts. Plus, the Consort had gone without for far too long a time. Myn'dill knew that his patient had borne the distress of unsatisfied urges with a great deal of dignity and admired his courage and how he had not let his loss make him less of an Arbitrator or Hunter. He had also Sired pups via artificial means thanks to Myn'dill's craft in the lab. Two of the current pup vats held his and Sally's growing offspring. The Healer's discretion insured that no one outside of himself, and Sally knew of the Consort's handicap.

Within two cycles of the final treatment, Aldúlfr had found to his delight that he could function again. He had barged into the Healer's lab and actually lifted him off the floor in unrestrained glee. Sensing no threat from the larger Elder, Myn'dill had repressed his urge to attack the other for handling him so. He immediately began to lecture the Elder regarding how he should mate with Sally. Seeing Aldúlfr's giddiness, he had settled for the Elder's promise that he would let the Matriarch run the show and guide him through the mating process.

Myn'dill's savoring of sweet success had been crushed when he examined Sally the next day. _Too much! Too much damage. He is simply too large, too strong for her to handle. He will eventually hurt her beyond my ability to repair – she is not as young as she was – her cells take more time to heal – even with my help. How can I address this with the Consort? How can she back away from her public agreement to submit to him? How may I bring this up without suffering his wrath? Difficult. Difficult indeed. _The Healer punched his com, putting in a call for help. He hoped that somehow, Aldúlfr would buy into his idea.

As Myn'dill was trying to solve his new dilemma, Sally was about to welcome her lover, Sig'dan to her quarters. She was thankful that her Consort had decided that the pups could not bear another cycle without his Training and had left for the camp only this morning, in an extremely pleasant mood. The Matriarch was feeling better with the help of Myn'dill's medications, but there were still tell-tale signs that she had recently suffered a rough mating and was not ready for intimacy again. No sooner had Aldúlfr left than she had received communication from Sig'dan asking if he could come to her. She managed to put him off until evening, when she hoped that a large meal followed by a warm soak would make him sleepy. Another night of healing might at least enable her to walk normally.

The young Hunter greeted the familiar guards at the Matriarch's door. Yang was now accompanied by another gargantuan who had yet to even emit a grunt to Sig'dan. The monstrous one merely nodded as he looked down upon the top of Sig'dan's cranium. The door opened and an Aseigan greeted him. Usually it was Sally. The young Hunter reasoned that she must be busy and followed the servant to the Dining Hall where he found Sally perched on her chair, beckoning him to join her.

When the servant left, he encompassed her with his arms. The need for his assistance at the Training camp was over, and he was delighted to be back in the company of his mate. "Did you enjoy your visit to our Camp?"

"I did, for the most part." She looked meaningfully at him. "I did not think that the Consort would require my submission while I was there. I…regret if you heard anything during our…encounter."

Sig'dan broke the eye contact and looked away, "I did. I heard his roar. I would not be truthful if I said it did not bother me." He looked again into her green eyes and ran a knuckle fondly over her eyebrow and down the side of her face. "Let us not look back at that. We are here, now. I prefer to focus on the present."

"As do I," she smiled. "But tell me, how is your daughter doing in her training?"

"Reasonably well. She excels where the skills of climbing or quickness are called for, but she remains somewhat slender and is not as tall as some of the others."

"Is that a problem?"

"I do not believe so. I have spoken with Myn'dill who tells me that her variation is natural in our kind and that in spite of medical intervention her growth spurt may be smaller than the others – or it may be simply taking longer to happen. He says she will not be out of the norm for a Yautja female, but she may be one of our smaller females." He looked pensive for a moment.

"What's wrong?"

"I suspect that the others provoke her."

Sally reached for a long dark lock and ran her fingers down it as though to smooth a snarl, "Children can be very cruel to each other. Can you do anything about it?"

"No. I do not know it is happening for certain. I only overheard a small bit, but I suspect it from all the pup's reactions when I walked in and interrupted them. We are a competitive race. We always seek to prove ourselves better than our peers. If the others have found something about her that they think is 'less', then she will have to prove to them that she is just as skilled as they are and not to be taken lightly. Unless it is a matter of honor, the Trainers will not interfere – nor will I. She must learn to defend herself."

Sally regarded his seriousness and asked, "Did you…were you provoked as a pup?"

"Sei," he said softly. "It is not something I often speak about."

"What happened?"

"When I was a small pup, our training group was a mixture of purebreds and hybrids. The purebreds were constantly at us, trying to get a reaction. There were only two of us hybrids and the tormenting…the insults were…difficult to endure."

"But you did endure it, Sig-dan! You endured and became the strong Hunter you are today. Signý will be like you – I know it!"

"You are always the positive one, Sal-lee." He pulled her close and nuzzled the top of her head. "I have missed you, female. When I am not with you, you come to me in my dreams."

"Oh? And just what happens in your dreams?" Sally raised one eyebrow.

"I will simply have to show you. It will be easier than telling." The scent of his ardor wafted to Sally's nose carrying the promise of exquisite pleasure.

"Of that I have no doubt!" She trailed her fine hands across his forehead and raised up to place a kiss. "But not yet, most virile Hunter. I have had a feast prepared to celebrate your return! I hope you are hungry." She signaled for the meal to begin and the servants began arriving with platters of exotic and amazing food.

Ravenous as usual, Sig'dan dived in to the assortment of flesh, fruits and imported filberts, just arrived on the latest transport from Earth. Sally nibbled at her portion, captivated as usual by the efficient eating machine that was also her magnificent lover. She poured him glass after glass of c'ntlip and had a bit herself. Finally he refused her libation, "I am already defenseless to your desires, Matriarch. Would you have me so imbibed that I cannot firmly stand?"

Sally thought for a moment, "Did you just make a joke in my language?"

"No," he answered, confused, "Did I pronounce something wrong?"

"How would you like to get naked with me and take a nice warm soak?"

"I cannot refussse sssuch an invitassshun," he finally slurred his words as the c'ntlip warmed his brain. He arose and followed her inviting figure to her bedroom and private bath. The water was already to the top of the pool, and steam rose off the surface. Sally began to shed her clothing, "Come on. Enjoy this with me!" He watched her undress with some concern. She was moving somewhat stiffly, had she damaged herself doing her Yoga or practicing in the kehrite?

"Sal'lee, are you injured?"

The Matriarch answered as she stiffly climbed down into the soothing tub. "Why would you think that?"

Sig'dan stared down at her, focusing on the healing indentations in her breasts and on her shoulder. Sloshing into the water, he sat beside her, "Sal'lee, I see your mating marks from my Sire, and I am wondering why I have never noticed them before. I also observe that you have evaded my direct question."

"You have become good at detecting evasion – even in English," Sally chuckled nervously wishing she'd been able to get him to drink more. "Comes with being a parent, I think." Sig'dan simply looked at her, almost not blinking. Sally fought off his stare, "Sig'dan, I really do not want to talk about this."

"Sal'lee, even somewhat intoxicated, I am a Healer. I can see how large your original tusk wounds were and I see how stiffly you move. He must have been extremely rough with you for you to require the services of a Healer…of Myn'dill." His voice began to deepen in anger and his crest began to flare. "And how is it that I have never noticed his tusk marks before?" He thought aloud, "Was I simply unwilling to see them, or did you somehow get them quickly healed each time?" His eyes suddenly obtained an inward focus as he recalled all the occasions the Consort had requested his mate. Slowly, his puzzlement cleared as a single, inescapable solution occurred to him. "In Paya's name! This was the first time you submitted to him?" He looked at the by now readable face before him and saw the truth of his deduction.

The face appeared to be upset. The bath water was covering most of Sally's scent, so he had to resort to only visual cues. Searching for the right words, she finally responded to his statement. "I have vowed not to discuss this with anyone – that includes you! So please drop it."

"Drop it? All this time I have been frustrated and angry because I thought he was mating you – only to find out it wasn't true! And so…why did he not take the submission from you that he demanded, and you promised publicly? Why have you gone along with this…this act?"

Sally just looked at him, "I already gave you my answer. I'm tired and I'm going to bed." Unexpectedly she hauled herself from the bath and walked over to the dryers. Sig'dan didn't even watch, he was engrossed in pondering over the possible implications of his realization."

"Don't push too hard for answers on this one," Sally shouted from the bedroom. "You'll end up with another injury in the arena and broken mandibles again! Aldúlfr won't go easy on you – like he did the last time." Sig'dan could hear low chuckling coming from her direction and vaulted out of the water. He raced under the dryer and grabbed a cloth to run through his locks on the way to join her. "Female!" he growled in false threat, "You forget my station!"

"I never forget," she came back," – your station is usually on top of me!"

He grabbed her just before she climbed up into the bed and hauled her from the ground, and then set her gently upon the furs, "You're not going to enlighten me are you, Mighty Matriarch of the Yautja?"

"Nope, I gave my word. Now don't drive yourself crazy trying to figure it out!"

He raised himself up to sit beside her, "I suppose that you are not in any condition to distract me from my line of questioning?"

"I regret that I am not. However, if you leave me alone, another good night's sleep might find me greatly healed by morning."

Without another word, Sig'dan threw himself over her body and landed with a bounce on the other side of the large bed. Drawing up a fur he turned his back to her, "Good sleep then."

* * *

In the large kehrite of the Training Camp, Arndís was about to throw the shuriken for the first time. She had practiced handling it – flicking it open and then shut with snaps of her wrist. The star-like blades felt comfortable in her hand, as balanced as the dull practice one she had thrown and caught so many times she had lost count. Today was her first throw of the most lethal and clever blade the Yautja had developed. Carried on one's body, it was small and easy to pack. Once flipped open and thrown it whirled through the air slicing through anything in its curving path and then made its way back into the hand that had thrown it. At least that was the way it was SUPPOSED to work. Any carelessness or inattention by the catcher would find him or her minus a portion of their hand – sliced off so neatly that it would not even bleed for a moment until the separated section toppled off.

The Elite Elder Arbitrator was standing near, just in case it appeared that Arndís might have a mishap in grabbing the returning weapon. If the trajectory faltered, if the young UnBlood's aim did not look good, he would immediately thrust out his experienced hand to snatch the thing before it could damage her. Hunters –in-training usually were graced with a spotter during only a single trial. The first newborn females of the recovering Yautja race could count on three trials before they would face down the returning singing blades alone.

Tossing her bare locks, the young female steadied herself and took the weapon from her belt. The blades bloomed opened with the thin sound of unsheathing metal as she gave her wrist a single snap. Holding up the blade, she gave in to well-practiced body memory and did not over-think the situation. The nearby watchers saw the graceful arm reach out to the side and go forward, releasing the rotary of death with a simple opening of her hand as it snapped forward and let go in one simultaneous movement. Released from its perch, the blade spun through the air, approaching the jungle. Just before reaching the tall plants and severing their waving heads, it banked and with the sun glinting from its surface, made its way back to the start of its flight.

Arndís held her right hand high, waiting for her metal bird to land upon it. Her eyes never left the circling raptor as it flew high above and then made for home. She was positive that her bird was true and that her hand was in the correct receiving position. Now to grasp it by the main body and, just at the exact moment, direct its energy with a flick that would stop the revolving blades without sacrificing any of her fingers. The shuriken grew nearer and nearer, the steady rush of it parting the air was now within her hearing. It flew past her face and wham! The waiting hand of the Arbitrator seized it.

"What?" she whirled around to face him. "What was wrong?" She stood boldly before him, just two heads short of his stature.

"Your hand was not matching the angle of the blade. It probably would have divided your hand as you tried to catch it."

Arndís stood looking pointedly and in great disrespect at her adopted Sire. "I believe that I would have caught it successfully, Honorable Trainer." She finally dropped her eyes. "Could you be protecting me too much?"

He growled at her implication, "Youngling, as fond as I am of you I would not have interfered unless I deemed it necessary. Now, try again!" He softly barked the last order and Arndís took the closed weapon from him, preparing to throw again.

This time she felt his immense eyes upon her and found it taxing to try and concentrate on her throw and not the scrutinizer. At last she dropped her throwing hand and turned to him, "Honorable Trainer, I regret that I am unable to throw again. Your scrutiny of my technique is making it difficult not to be self-conscious. If I am unable to focus properly, the blade WILL damage me." She awaited his response to this skewed challenge.

"Bloodline of my Firstborn! He growled, "Your enemy will not allow you this luxury and neither will I! Throw the pauk-de weapon and if your technique is faulty I will catch it for you – again!"

With as much dignity as possible, because her sisters were watching as well as the other Trainers, Arndís ignored Aldúlfr and the crowd. She once again opened her set of blades and flung it into the path of her desire. Up it went, turning and reflecting back the orange sun's rays. Near its zenith, it began to curve and started the loop back to its mistress.

Arndís squinted at the bright whirring blade. She focused all her thoughts on the position of the returning shuriken and fixed her catching hand at the same angle. An orbiting rush flew past her face, disrupting the air and then stopped. Surprised, Arndís looked to see the star resting securely in her own hand. She had caught it! There was not even a slice to mark the path.

Aldúlfr bellowed his approval, "Excellent Arndís! You are worthy of the line that Sired you!" He shook her shoulder earnestly after watching her return the blade to its rectangular form and stash it at her waist.

"My skills are a reflection of the greatness of my Trainers," she bowed graciously.

_Well said, _thought the Arbitrator, _You are almost ready to truly begin your life. _

Outside the doorway of the kehrite, several young Yautja were gathered around a High Elder as he showed them the interior workings of the shoulder cannon. "You have each been deigned worthy enough to begin basic study of this weapon. Before you begin to use it, you must understand how it works." Three pairs of eyes drank in the dissected weapon, while three brains memorized every word the Trainer said. They had each worked long and hard to reach this point in their training.

Ulfrde caught the Trainer's attention, "You have a question?"

"Sei, Honorable Trainer. May I ask it?"

"You may."

The exquisite formality of the moment engraved its importance even deeper into her mind. "Honorable Trainer, will we be permitted to use this weapon on our Chiva?"

"No, and Yes," he answered. "You will enter the sacred Hunt with only blades. After a time, when the prey has been released and has grown, you will be offered the opportunity to secure energy weapons. It is an earned honor, not a right, to use them."

"I understand," the youngling nodded.

"You do? Then tell us, why? Why is it an honor, not a right to use them?" He stood from his kneeling with the weapon, closed it up and held it out to Ulfrde.

"It is an honor because once we are on the Hunt and gain the capability to use such a weapon as this – it will tip the balance in our favor."

The Elder nodded, then growled down at her, "And so Unblooded female, why do you not take this weapon that I offer to you?"

"Because I have not yet earned it," she confidently replied.

"Bloodline of Elite Elder Arbitrator Aldúlfr!" he growled, causing her to quickly stand up, becoming as tall as possible. She remained motionless, awaiting his command as he paced around her and then drew near. "I am honored to be your Trainer," he said quietly almost whispering into the side of her head. "Do well on your Chiva, I shall be awaiting your return."

Ulfrde stayed in her stiff posture, turning over the Elder's words and actions in her head. _THAT was unexpected. What the pauk? Is he letting me in on his future mating intentions? _She glanced at the large, silver-locked Elder and saw him stand just a little taller. _Well..well..c'jit. And so it begins. Our Mother told us. _Her thoughts turned back to the lecture the Matriarch had given them cycles ago - just before they went to their first Training Camp.

"Girls! Girls! Settle down and pay attention! I have something important to discuss with you." The pups all found places to sit and waited for their Mother to begin the lesson. She looked and scented of discomfort which unsettled them all a bit. After obediently taking seats around their joint sleeping room, they stayed quiet and waited for their Bearer to speak.

"You are now of the age when there is something of vast importance that I must teach you. Learn from my words, and my study, and my experience.

As you have been told from birth, I am of a difference species than the Yautja. I befriended your Sires and voluntarily assisted them in creating each of YOU because all the female Yautja had died off. Even though you are half my species, your genetics have been altered so that you appear, and function, as full Yautja. Do any of you have any questions about this?" Only silence answered, so she continued.

"After you are fully trained at the camp, you will go on your Chiva. Am I correct that the Hunters have informed you about the Chiva?"

"Sei," the small voices answered. Arndís piped up, "We go hunt the ultimate prey and take trophies in order to earn our status as adults with our Clans. We will use the blood of the prey, the hard meat, to etch our Clan mark upon our foreheads!" Small grunts and chatters of approval came up from around her.

"Very good, that is correct. But there is something more that happens after your Chiva and is part of being an adult." All the intense pup faces leaned toward their Bearer. She was about to tell them something new! Was she about to add more information to the scraps of knowledge they had obtained in scarcely overheard corridor conversations?

"When you become an adult, you will also begin to have the urge to mate. Many worthy Hunters will want to mate with you. But it is up to you! You will select your mate - and we will speak more about this in a moment - and complete the physical process of breeding with him. His seed will allow you to create a new pup inside your body."

Sally paused to let her clinical words sink in and saw looks ranging from bafflement to 'I knew it' around the room. "Come, crowd around the large viewer. I will explain your own anatomy, a Hunter's anatomy and you will see how this act is completed."

As a unit, the group of pups surged forth, each one vastly curious. Sally pulled up the real anatomical pictures and showed them the opening in their bodies and then the protruding Hunter structure that would go into it. She showed them the differences in male anatomy when aroused and when flaccid and heard a ghostly chitter at the edge of her amazed crowd.

"Does someone have a question?" she asked.

"I do, Mother," a pup said in her mix of languages, screwing up her small face as she visually wondered, "The Hunter's physical response is caused by his blood circulation, right?"

"Right," replied Sally, proud that her daughter was grasping all her teaching.

"Well…does that," she pointed to the impressive erection on the screen, "ever result in one of them fainting?"

"Not that I have ever heard of." Sally choked in the back of her mind, but treated the sincere question with great dignity. "Yes, there can be quite a difference between the flaccid and the erect size. I'm sure you see that the size and even the shape, to a degree, vary between Hunters." She hurried on, "And finally, here is the mating act as performed between a real Hunter and Bearer."

The pups watched in complete stillness. They saw the large Bearer seductively flirt with the slightly shorter Hunter and dare him to conquer her. He cautiously approached and teased her in his own way. Then reading her surrender, he moved quickly to place her in the mating hold and promptly entered, pushing and pulling his way to the completed mission. The bite followed by the roar signaled his success.

"What do you think, girls? Do you have any questions?"

Shock and a few clicking giggles filled the silence. Then Ulfrde commented, "I'm going to get as strong as possible. Will I be as tall and strong as the female in that recording?"

"Eventually. It will take some time. Why do you want to know that?"

"Because I'll kick the pauk out of ANY Hunter who tries to do that to me!"

Sally couldn't help but laugh, "I know you think that now. But in time, you will actually look forward to it. Your body will crave it."

"Matriarch?" Shy Signý had a question. "Does it hurt?" The others scoffed at her.

"A very good question! Sometimes, the first time is a little uncomfortable, but after that it is something that you will enjoy and look forward to doing. It is extremely pleasurable! So pleasurable that you don't even feel the bite much at all!

Sally looked thoughtful and took a chance at answering what she thought Signý's real question might be, "You can see how small I am compared to a Hunter, and I have mated successfully with them and without pain or damage." She cocked an eyebrow as faint chitters reached her ears. "Yes? Does someone have a question or comment?" Not a word was heard from the crowd of pups.

"Now, girls, I have downloaded these educational materials to your coms and I want to you familiarize yourself with them. You must understand how your body works and how a Hunter's body works. You can come to me and ask any questions at any time. Understand?"

All the little mops waved affirmatively. "Great! Now I have to tell you about the MOST important part of all this – how to choose the best mate! Yes, girls YOU get to choose who mates you. There are a great many Hunters who would like to, but you must choose only the very best, so that the pups you bear will be the very best. Here is how to choose…"

She went on and told them about assessing a Hunter's physique and skill, and how to look up his history of successful hunts, spars, etc. "Once you have selected a potential mate, you may signal your interest to him. Traditionally this is done by asking to see his trophies. He will take you to his trophy room and tell you about each one. Listen carefully and scent his truthfulness. As you know, an Honorable Hunter speaks truth. If you decide this Hunter is to be your mate, approach him and place your hand over the middle of his chest – like so." Sally placed her own hand over her heart. "See? Then you give a firm shove. This is the mating challenge – you are telling him – take me if you are good enough. You may do anything at all to try and get away from him. It's like a game. But if he catches you in the mating hold, you then submit to the mating. Questions?"

"All this just to have pups?" Arndís sighed.

"Yes, my dear! All this just to have pups. There is more I will tell you eventually, but this is enough for now."

Eventually had finally come, and Sally had spoken with them during her recent visit to the Camp. She called them together, apart from their trainers, and related things. Such as how the Hunters had an irresistible urge to taste them, and how they had to do it very carefully to avoid injuring the female and to avoid being injured by the female's talons in turn. She told them how the roar at the end of the act indicated that the Hunter's seed had been implanted. She also explained to them about the feelings of being attracted to a mate – how everyone is different - but in general how it would probably feel. She said she couldn't be one-hundred percent sure, because they were only half-human and she was full human there might be some differences. She talked about how the High Elders were the greatest Hunters available from each of the Clans, and how they would be vying with each other for the girls as their mates. They would not be able to mate with the females they had Sired of course. And since the Dor'an only mated within their Clan, the High Elder would provide other high ranking Honorable mates to choose from for the two Dor'an females.

"I thought we got to choose our mate," a voice came from the back of the crowd. It was Signý being uncharacteristically bold.

"You do, of course. And naturally you will want the very best Sire for your pup! The best Hunters are the High Elders, or in the case of the Dor'an, they will provide other high ranking Hunters. See?"

"So, we get to 'choose' as long as it's a High Elder?"

"Well, yes. But why would you choose any other Hunter – these are the finest!"

"I…was just making sure I understood. That's all." Those around her scented a small deception and frowned at their sister. Sally saw the telltale faces all around Signý, and witnessed one of the other girls whisper something, but she couldn't hear it.

Signý held her face and posture firm as the hated expression came forth from her sister's mouth, "Don't worry, offspring of forced mating. Who would want you?" She had endured without complaint the constant reminders that she was the product of rape, while her sisters' Bearer had volunteered to become their Mother. So it followed, her sisters reasoned, that Sally was more Honorable than Melanie. That made their genes better than Signý's. They were better and more deserving of Honor than their small sister who was conceived from a forced act by a Hunter who knew no better - even if it was the family's beloved Honorable Sig'dan.

Another thoughtful pup asked the Matriarch yet another question, "What if we all want the same mate?"

Sally knew the answer to this one from her studies, "If more than one female desires the same Hunter, then they must spar for him. The winner of the spar gets the Hunter. If there are several females, they will compete, a pair at a time, until there is a single victor. More questions?"

"What kind of spar, Mother? Do we get to use weapons?" Ulfrde questioned eagerly.

"No, the spar is jehdin-jehdin. Whoever stays in the circle wins."

"Oh, it's not to the death then," Ulfrde shoved Arndís playfully.

Sally looked at all of them sternly, "I have seen and heard of instances were death has happened in hand-to-hand fighting. I would certainly hope that NONE of you would consider killing one of your sisters over something as mundane as mating – no matter how strong your urges are!" She continued to look stonily at them until they had all submitted and the low voice of Arndís muttered, "It depends on how much my sister has pissed me off!"

Sally whirled upon her, "And just WHERE in Yaut did you learn that Earth phrase young lady?" Arndís knew her mother was especially angry when she used the words 'young lady'. A chorus of pup voices went up in unison, "From our Trainer, Honorable Theron."

Another small voice raised an urgent concern, "Mother, what if more than one Hunter vies for my attention? I get to choose the one I want right?"

"Yes, you do – but the Hunter you didn't choose is allowed to challenge the Hunter you chose for the right to mate you. They will also spar – and these fights can get ugly. The winner, no matter who it is, has obtained the right to mate you." Sally announced this grimly, waiting for the girls' reaction.

Ulfrde raised her voice, "Well – some choice then! I find some Hunter who I'm willing to let bash my body and then some other Hunter beats the hel out of him and I HAVE to mate with the winner? C'jit! What good is it to be a Bearer then? I'd rather go hunt."

Sally did her best to soothe the riled female. "Ulfrde, this is the tradition of our people! I mean your people. Only the fittest, only the best must reproduce so that each succeeding generation is stronger. So if a Hunter challenges your choice and wins, HE IS ACTUALLY the better choice – you still win! And by the way, I think you have been spending too much time around swearing Hunters!"

Arndís signaled a desire to speak and was given permission by a nod from Sally. "I do not wish to insult or offend, Honorable Matriarch, but given all that you have told us – why are you and Honorable Sig'dan together? Why do you not mate solely with your Consort – he is far superior."

Sally swallowed hard, she had anticipated this question. "I am with Sig'dan because my situation is different. First, I am a human, not a Yautja. And more importantly, I cannot bear any pups. I do not mate to produce the best pup – I mate for pleasure. My urges and desires are different than a Yautja's. I have chosen to submit to the Consort because it is my honor and my duty. I submit to Sig'dan, as is the Matriarch's right, because I have chosen him. He has proven his worthiness and honor to me.

"My seed was taken from my body and mated with the seed of your Sires to produce each of you. You were grown in artificial wombs. That mating was to produce the best pups possible – you." Sally looked around the group and saw the logical question in their eyes that they did not yet ask. "I know that you want to understand how I could be the best human female to be chosen to be your Bearer when I could not have a pup inside my body." Grunts of agreement met her.

"Back on Earth I had some problems, and my Healer there told me that the only remedy was to have my womb cut surgically from my body. My seeds – my ovum, were left intact.

"Later, when I befriended the Yautja, I helped them in many ways and earned their trust and respect. They brought me here to Yaut and the High Council declared me Matriarch. Healer Myn'dill determined that my body was fit and the ovum were extracted from me. The rest, well you know – you are here!"

"Mom," Arndís used the casual familiar term, "Whatever did you do to earn becoming the Matriarch? I mean, well when I was very small I never thought of you as alien – you were just a very small Yautja to me!" The others chimed in with clicking agreement. "But now, well…now even though I still see you as familiar and my Bearer, I do see that you are different. How did you come to meet our race and befriend them?"

"That is a lengthy tale, my children."

Sally told them the story of Paya's House and all that had taken place there – with some omissions of a personal nature. They learned about how the Ancients had been mistreated there and how their Bearer had come to understand honor and helped the Yautja to dispatch their Ancients to the next life properly, and how they had taken her back to Yaut with them. Breathlessly, they learned of the trial before the High Council and the treachery that had created the illness that had destroyed all Yautja females."

"And Honorable Sig'dan and Honorable Healer Myn'dill are credited with solving this mystery and coming up with a cure. That is the only reason that each of you is now alive!"

Arndís raised a small dagger and made a slice in her palm and then placed the dripping hand over her heart, "I shall do my duty and produce the best pups possible for the benefit of all Yautja." The other's quickly repeated her words and actions – the solemn oath sworn in the best tradition of the race.

Tears filled Sally's eyes. All she had sacrificed, all she had worked for was being realized in these sincere, strong young females. "I am proud of each of you," she exclaimed. "I believe in each of you and I look forward to seeing my grandchildren – your pups!"

Ulfrde was brought back from her memories to the present by the clicking of one of her sisters. The Trainer was looking expectantly at her as though he had just asked her a question. Her two sisters eyed her and looked somewhat embarrassed.

"Ulfrde!" The Trainer barked, "I asked you to explain to your sisters the basic operating principle of the plasma castor. Why have you delayed following my order?"

The young female looked down, "Honorable Trainer, I did not hear your question. I was remembering something."

"And what was so important for you to remember that you lost your concentration upon my words?" he demanded with a threatening growl.

Ulfrde wanted to die and shrink down into nothingness. She, the prized offspring of the Matriarch, the adopted of the Consort had been caught not paying attention to her Trainer. The error of a young pup! Ulfrde blushed green with emotion – the change in color not lost upon the High Elder who taught her. In a softer voice he asked, "Tell me what you were thinking about."

"I was remembering the instruction of the Matriarch," she replied, and memorized the curves of the Elder's toe talons. "And I was remembering my reply."

"And what words did you tell her?"

"That I would kick the pauk out of any Hunter who tried that with me." Her sisters inhaled loudly.

"Tried what, young female?" The Elder's voice grew even softer.

"Tried to mate with me!" She raised her eyes defiantly to the High Elder and locked her dark amber pupils with his. His mandibles quivered just a tiny flutter, and then he broke into the clicks and warbles of laughter. "I would not doubt that you would! I shall warn my Brothers!" He dismissed them then and looked warmly at the retreating backside of young Ulfrde.

_I appreciate the warning young female. When Paya's call to mating warms your body, you will feel differently for me. I await your coming of age, most potentially honorable and desirable female._


	31. It's Off to Hunt We Go

A/N: Ah, what better way to spend a cold and rainy day that to concoct another chapter. I hope this moves the plot along to everyone's satisfaction. There is a scene here that has been turning in my brain nearly since the beginning of this story. Enjoy…

**Chapter 30: It's Off to Hunt We Go**

_"The true trophy hunter is a self-disciplined perfectionist seeking a single animal, the ancient patriarch well past his prime that is often an outcast from his own kind... If successful, he will enshrine the trophy in a place of honor. This is a more noble and fitting end than dying on some lost and lonely ledge where the scavengers will pick his bones, and his magnificent horns will weather away and be lost forever."_

_Elgin Gates, __Trophy Hunter in Asia_

Small creatures hummed and buzzed about the sweating faces of the three young Unblooded females as they hacked their way through the thick jungle growth. The leader's wristblades sliced down the verdant green leaves and stems that grew in tangled profusion as if waiting to entrap any careless feet that dared tromp through them. After a time, the leader dropped back and the next in line unsheathed her twin hackers and began slashing at the emerald vines that hampered their passage. It was slow going for the trio of unmarked Huntresses. Shoulder muscles began to complain of fatigue but they dared not stop. There was no place to camp for the night in this terrain.

"Pauk-de plants," grunted Arndís as she swung her wristblades rhythmically through the overgrowth. "After I am Blooded, I will never leave the city again!"

"Shut your traps and keep swinging," responded Ulfrde, who was the Trainer-appointed Leader of the party. Behind her, a nearly exhausted Signý groped her nearly numb arm with the still-good one, and rested it from taking her turn in front, cutting a path for the others. She was determined not to complain – no matter how tough their outing became.

This was their first unaccompanied survival trial. They had gone on increasingly difficult treks as a group through parts of the jungle, practiced hunting and gathering food and acquiring water. Once these skills were polished, they had all been taken on an overnight outing where they were required to search out and prepare their own sleeping areas. In the morning, all had created good nests for themselves and were well rested. After a breakfast of freshly caught flesh they headed back to the Training camp, scratching numerous small stings and bites but pleased with the success of their adventure.

Eventually, they were to be formed into their Chiva trios and allowed to continuing the training in small groups. The early formation of hunting parties allowed the young near-adults the opportunity to bond and create the relationships so necessary on a Chiva team. The Yautja entering the passage-to-adulthood trial must be able to trust each other with their lives, counting on their team mate's judgment and performance. A team that didn't learn to work with each other very often failed their Chiva. That kind of failure usually meant death, maiming or worse – spending the rest of your life assigned to the ranks of Aseigan.

Suddenly, the lead female stopped mid-swing and signaled to the others to freeze. Carefully, they all scented the heavy humid air through open mouths and switched visual modes inside their masks trying to detect whatever had put Arndís on alert. As the moments went by without finding anything alarming, the muscular Yautja shrugged her shoulders and began once again to sling her wristblades, the underbrush falling before her and trod beneath three pair of sandaled feet.

The tall canopy shielded the group from crisping beneath the mid-cycle sun as they worked their way along an ancient trail that they had uncovered shortly after being dropped off in a small clearing by the ever watchful Consort. At his order they had given a final check to their survival packs, wristcoms and weapons before leaving him. He had bid them success and then the small hovercraft had lifted and vanished.

They were on their own. All their training and practice had led them to this moment – their first unescorted hunt, and their grouping in to what would become a Chiva team.

The High Elders and other Trainers had spent many evenings after the pups had gone to sleep, discussing the merits of each female and considering the different triads that might be formed from the group. Hunting trios were sacred formations. The idea being that each member was chosen to bring differing talents and skills to the group so that as a triad they would be more successful than any of them could be alone. Solo Hunters were rare because of this. It was not often that a Yautja would consider themself so talented that he would hunt anything more than game to provision the ship or the Clan. The Elder Hunters who went out to the dangerous game planets alone were spoken of in tones of reverence. If they returned, it was with trophies that added to their legend. If they did not, reconnaissance was usually sent out to determine, if possible, what had happened to them. The race remained rightfully paranoid about of their technology ending up in the hands of the universe's other somewhat intelligent species. That the oomans had some of their energy weapons was bad enough – there were other things out there that absolutely must NEVER obtain Yautja tech.

Ulfrde's shredded vegetation unexpectedly gave way to a clearing. Cautiously, the three emerged and carefully scanned for whatever else might be around. "There is game nearby," she stated quietly, identifying the scent of a prey creature. "You two inspect the area and locate a nest for the night. I will catch our food."

As the Leader and the best meat provider among them, there was no argument from the other two at her statement. They ditched their heavy packs and began to reconnoiter as Ulfrde slipped back into the jungle. Silently, she followed the wafting scent which wound around the stems and branches in front of her. Lapping at the slightly warm scent in the roof of her mouth with her tongue, she could almost taste the fresh meat separated from the pelt as hunger raised her senses to their peak. Her silent footfalls hastened as the scent grew fresher.

Back at the clearing, Signý and Arndís had marked out a grid of the area on their wristcoms and walked it. The exercise turned up only the normal plant and animal life, there was nothing dangerous and certainly nothing worth taking a trophy from. With that task behind them, they began to gather materials for the night nest. Clever Signý had suggested backtracking along the path of cut vegetation hacked down by Ulfrde. It would be simple to gather the already fallen branches to form a comfortable heap for the night.

As they wove the basic framework, they kept automatically glancing around and huffing for scents as they had been trained to do. There was no conversation; they worked in tandem with no need to share idle thoughts. Their minds were cleanly focused on the assigned task as well as being alert for any threat or opportunity.

It was Arndís who first caught the strange scent. Floating into the clearing, it had not yet lowered to Signý's shorter level when the alarms went off in her sister's head. She froze, and the smaller female immediately followed her lead and found the odor for herself. It was a scent unlike any other they had ever experienced. Musky and heady with the undeniable rank of a virile Hunter – a Hunter who had been out for many cycles and had not bothered to cleanse himself. His filth and maleness were advertised on the air as boldly and brashly as the aroma of over ripened flesh, hung out too long by a novice at food preparation. The females looked at each other in surprise. What Hunter would keep himself so? Any prey could detect him from several noks away in the slight breeze. Signý made the sign for a wounded Hunter. Was there an injured Hunter conserving his energy in the jungle while he healed? Had he been unable to contact the city? Even without conversing, both female's imaginations ran away with the possibilities.

Slowly, Arndís began to follow the scent and motioned Signý to stay put. _So, _thought the smaller female, _she thinks that she will be the one to find an injured Hunter and return him to the city to receive all the glory! She won't find him without me! _On silent feet, Signý followed her sister determined to solve this mystery.

Once out of the clearing, the scent led them through growth so tangled it was difficult to pass through. Arndís did not want to use her blades to cut a path as she feared the sound would give them away. Hoping the scent was an injured Hunter who required assistance, and was hopefully not too proud to take it, she was prudent enough to stalk to the source and identify it before leaping to the rescue. She and her sister crept up on the scent silently, contorting through the awkwardly placed limbs and vines. In the middle of one of these strained movements, something caught Arndís' vision. There was a slight heat signature alongside the thick trunk of a plant ahead. It moved and was gone. _Something, or someone, is behind that stalk! _Using Hunt sign, she told Signý of her finding, and then signaled for them to split up and approach the target from opposite sides.

Like two large cats, they stealthed between the tortuous plants not daring to disturb a leaf or crack a twig. Every cell, refined by years of evolution and brought to peak by long cycles of practice, was now tuned to perfection in these two adept killers. Nature's ultimate predators were on the hunt – a beautifully fearsome sight. As they crept around the thick stalk and focused on its far side, there was disturbingly no heat image of any hapless Hunter requiring their services. Only the fading heat image of where something had been sitting greeted them, led away into the jungle by even fainter footprints. Signý examined one of the prints closely and excitedly motioned her sister over. "Look," she clicked, in the language of the hunt which can carry on the air for noks into the sensitive hearing of other Hunters.

"What do you think this is?" clicked back Arndís, touching the print with a talon.

"Unknown," Signý's answered.

The print was of a bare foot, much smaller than either of theirs. Stubby toes that appeared to be talonless, except for the large first toe of each foot, were dug into the mud where too much shade had prevented the growth of plants. The creature was light as the print did not sink into the silt very far. "It looks much like one of Mother's footprints," Arndís finally relayed to her sister, just before she sprawled out upon the ground with some grimy short creature sitting on her back. As if possessed, Signý plunged at the filthy living thing that had toppled her Hunt Sister. Yowling in rage, she hit it full on and sent it sideways onto the ground. Before the stupid thing could regain itself, the two sisters had stretched it out with one standing on its wrists, the other on its spindly ankles.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" the living dirt screamed and was quickly joined by several others who appeared from the jungle stubble. Thinking quickly, Signý tapped her wristcom which sent the signal to Ulfrde's wrist, warning her of danger.

They were all male, all filthy and all very short. From their bulbous heads sprouted hair, much like their Bearers' but it was oddly clumped here and there around the back and sides. Their faces were as though an ooman had rounded a corner at top speed and collided with a Yautja, becoming a chimera of both species. Two of the miniature males had large, square lower jaws with cheeks covered with more sprouts and tufts of hair. The largest male, and apparent pack leader, was similar but also had the advantage of a set of foreshortened mandibles. They hung off the hairy sides of his face quite short and useless with small pointed tusks above and below. He stood in front of the others, his face in a grimace as his eyes scanned them up and down.

"Paya!" Signý tusk tapped to her sister, "We have found the Aseigans from my Bearers story! Remember Snow White?"

"Quiet," Arndís coded back, "Play along. Buy time. Study their weakness." She echoed Honorable Aldúlfr's words when telling them about how they should work their enemy to find an advantage. "Ulfrde will find us."

The grubby little males showed their sparse and blocky teeth inside wide grins as the leader growled out, "Holy Hell! These are girls? Jesus, look at the size of 'em! Damned ugly, too!" The Huntresses remained silent and in shock, the squat Aseigan with toy mandibles had spoken in English!

"Get 'em off me!" screamed the one held captive. "They're breakin' my bones! Get 'em off!"

Quietly Arndís held up a hand, palm out, to the males. Then she stepped off the pathetic screamer and Signý followed. "This one of your group attacked me, " Arndís told the Leader, "He is fortunate that I left him alive." She made a show of extending her wrist blades and Signý did the same. The males grew a shade paler beneath their dirt. "Who are you?" Signý asked.

"We are the some-a the men of our fam-lee," the Leader answered proudly, amazed at the tall girl towering over him.

"Men? Where are your females?" Arndís growled.

"Back home. Would ya like ta meet em?" The lead male grinned up at the strange girl whose scent was faint and not at all appealing. He wondered just how large the boys of her family must be.

"Take us to your home," Arndís commanded.

Stringing along a narrow trail, the little males led the giant females through the verdant density to a crumbling mound of overgrown stone blocks that formed the topside of their home. "This way," they urged and began to climb down a dimly lit stairway that was half blocked by fallen stone.

"What is this place?" Signý asked her sister in Yautja.

"I do not know."

Down beneath the heap of squared blocks they went, their masked faces looking this way and that. Elaborate carvings decorated the walls and ceilings. Huge statues of guardian Hunters were knocked this way and that, some even broken on the floor. Signý excitedly tapped to her sister, "Arndís! I think this is an ancient temple!" Arndís nodded and they walked on, following the chattering group of males.

"Mom!" One of the males yelled out, "Mom! We're back! We got a su-prize for ya!"

The group turned a corner and entered a room that had a small cooking fire to one side with a figure hunched over it. Several other figures were engaged in various tasks around the room. The one at the fire was a small sinewy woman, whose long white hair bore faint traces of some earlier more ginger shade.

"What's that you say? If you idiots have gone and dragged back some dead Yautja again, I swear…" Her voice trailed into nothingness as she beheld the two giantesses in front of her. Armored and masked, her aged eyes did not recognize them as female. In a panic, she looked down at the floor while muttering to the young males, "You fuckin' idiots…they'll kill us all."

"We mean you no harm," spoke Arndís. "However, one of these males did attack me. He is blessed by Paya that I have let him live."

"You speak English?" the women's fear was replaced somewhat by wonder. "How did Hunters learn to speak English so well?"

The sisters removed their masks, "Honorable Elder, we are Huntresses. We have a third sister who will track us and join us here," explained Arndís. "Please tell us who you are?" The woman had come away from the fire and they could see and scent that she was fully human. Two other women came out of the shadows as well as several females of various ages, some pregnant and some nursing pups. All the younger females had various hybrid characteristics.

Arndís and Signý looked at each other, and then accepted the Elder's invitation to be seated. They listened to her tale of kidnapping, rape, the horrifying drop ship landing on Earth, being lost in Australia and then how the BadBloods stole yet another ship which brought them here, where they had been living ever since.

"Where are your Hunters, your mates?" Signý inquired.

"They abandoned us, except for two of them. I believe they were left here to guard us. I dunno what happened, but one of them left and the last one – he was a real bastard, he was!" She laughed bitterly, "I had one of the other girls distract him, and I killed the son-of-a-bitch!"

The Yautja sisters almost scoffed in disbelief. "You …small female…you were able to kill him?" Arndís could not hide her incredulity.

"I did!" said the woman proudly. "I waited til the bastard was humpin' away and I snuck up behind him and, oh it was so sweet! I slid this dagger between his sorry ribs!" She pulled the blade from the sheath at her waist. "This very knife did him in!"

The sisters looked carefully at the Hunter's blade held in in the wizened yet strong hand of the woman. Her voice cackled again, "I cut him good and then when he backed off from his fuckin'…you shoulda seen the look on his face!" Her voice cracked as she laughed. "Then I got hold of him and slit his damn throat! Drug his body to the ravine and threw it down!" She was about to collapse in laughter as she told her tale.

"You disposed of him where?" Arndís queried.

"Oh, in the garbage ravine where we throw all our crap!" She laughed again. "Diana, be a good girl and show them where."

A long-haired ragged pup of perhaps seven cycles ran up to them, "This way," she said and bounded off. "I'll check it out," Signý offered, "Learn what you can." She ran after the child through well-traveled stone pathways until they came to the edge of a large crevice. Over the edge led to nothing but darkness. The Huntress tapped her wrist to activate a bright light. Scanning the far bottom there was nothing she could make out – until she stepped up the magnification in her visor. All along the bottom were the bones of various animals. "Is this were you throw your food waste?" she asked the girl.

"Uh, I dunno what you mean," the child said. "Waste?"

"Your left over food…the scraps."

"Yea, we throws it down there. And Mom says we throwed a mean monster down there too!"

Signý continued scanning, finding nothing until she looked straight down past her feet. "Of course," she muttered, "they would only have been strong enough to push him just over the side." Straight down below her lay the whitish bones of a Hunter. A fairly young one, she judged by his size. His skeleton lay with the arms and legs at odd angles, a moldered glyph of death. Signý recorded the sight, and then returned to Arndís.

"He is there, just as she said," Signý reported. Both of the females bowed their heads in great respect to the woman.

"What's this for?" she wondered.

"You killed a BadBlood, Honorable Matriarch of your Clan. You are worthy of our respect," Arndís answered her. "For you to have killed such a formidable enemy is amazing."

"Oh, he wasn't so formidable at the moment!" the old woman grinned, showing the black gaps of several missing teeth. She had been telling Arndís a disgusting story. The males, with the help of their leader, had become the bullies of their family. They were much stronger than the human women, even though they were not much taller. They had forced the women into servitude and their sisters into servitude and sexual slavery. When their sisters were not enough for their appetites they had impregnated the women who bore them, sometimes even their own mothers. Some of the babies suffered the price of such inbreeding.

"I do not doubt your story, Honorable Matriarch," noted Arndís after the woman had ceased speaking. "But the males that we encountered do not seem all that dishonorable and lawless to me – only rather stupid."

The woman, Duncan, cackled and then became serious, "Those are not the males I speak of – those are only their dim-witted offspring. The first-borne males are the ones to watch out for! They are off hunting, and if you know what's good for you – you'll get along too before they come back and find ya!" Her sing-song voice creaked as she gave her warning.

Arndís needed no other encouragement. With delicate talon tips, she sent a communication back to the Training Camp. She needed reinforcements and she needed them now! No way would she chance the possibility that the savior's of the Yautja race would become impregnated by any of the Sires of these abominations. "Come, Signý, let's leave. Do not worry, Honorable Matriarch. Rescue will be sent for you."

"Rescue? After all these years? What good is rescue to such an old sick woman? Where was rescue when I had some life left to live?" She turned her back on the Huntresses and went to her fire. Near her, a younger red locked female stared at them.

Back they went along the trail continually huffing for danger. It was near dusk when they made their camp, and there was no sign of Ulfrde. Arndís and Signý both signaled her, but there was no reply. Too troubled to sleep, the sisters climbed the tall stalks at one side of the clearing and began to wait out the night. Soon, help would come from the Training Camp.

* * *

Ulfrde had tracked the meat prey and was recalling the delicious taste of its flesh as her stomach growled for attention. She had not eaten at all this cycle and her constantly hungry digestive tract had something to say about it. "Quiet!" she told it, wondering if the noise was loud enough to spook the prey.

She wasn't certain just how it had happened, but without a scent or a sound she was suddenly pinned to the trunk behind her with a blade sticking out of her shoulder. The pain was immense, more than she had ever felt before. But more than that, it completely pissed her off. That anyone should be so cowardly, so stupidly dishonorable as to not only attack without warning, but attack without even an invitation to fight? She was not able to contain the roar of rage that upwelled from her throat and trumpeted from her splayed jaws. Raising her now solo good arm, she grasped the knife handle and prepared to jerk it from her body.

"Now…," a deep rumble presented itself before she could see its owner. "I wouldn't do that. You might cut yourself…here, let me." A large hand took hold of the handle and pulled it away from the wound. Ulfrde clenched her jaws against the pain as the pulled cutting edges made further intrusion into her flesh. Freed from being pinned to the plant, she whirled on the voice only to find the blade waving under her face.

"I've not seen anything like you before, big girl. Why don't you take that shit off your face so we can get a better look at you?"

Ulfrde cast cold eyes upon her tormentors. They were hybrid, she decided, surely the ugliest hybrids that had ever existed. While quite short, they were well muscled and strong. She had learned in her training not to measure an opponent strictly by height. Those shorter of stature often were able to duck your blows and move more quickly than a larger opponent. She made no movement, but stood there evaluating them.

"I said take that shit off your face!" he bellowed. "Can't you hear me? Are ya stupid?"

He moved closer to the Huntress and had to look up to see the expressionless eyes of her mask. _Just a bit closer, asshole._ Her functioning arm shot out and its fingers found quick purchase around the thick neck. Leveraging her hand against his body, she used her thumb to tip the asshole's skull against the fulcrum made by her fingers. One quick snap and he sunk lifeless to the ground. His two friends stared in horror and then rushed Ulfrde.

Their feet made a few clumps on the ground which formed a beat to accompany the sliding snicker of Ulfrde's wristblades. Time seemed to stop as the young Huntress waited for the males to come within striking distance. As they approached she reclaimed her center and coiled up her muscles in preparation. Then with graceful power, she spun in a lethal swirl and glided her bladed arm through the bodies of her targets. In an instant, it was over. Three dead hybrids lay at her feet: one with a broken neck, one with a severed jugular artery and the last with no head at all.

More than a trillion atoms of her ancestors cried out within her and bade Ulfrde unfasten and drop her mask onto the jungle floor. Arching her dark spotted back, she reached her face to the canopy above and cried out in victory, her call stretching through the limbs and leaves making them quiver in excitement. The rush died down, and she replaced her mask to go about the pleasantly grim business of taking trophies.

* * *

Elite Elder Aldúlfr was about to begin yet another well-deserved flask when his wristcom signaled. _Pauk! What now? Can't an Elder have a quiet drink in his quarters? _He flipped open the com's metal lip and read the coordinates of the signal. In a flash he was on his feet, grabbing at mask, weapons and armor. Once suitably attired, he was out the door and on the to a hovercraft, rapidly tapping his com and growling instructions. "What I wouldn't give to be near the spaceport right now," he rumbled.

"With me!" a flash of gray greeted him.

"You have a ship?" Aldúlfr questioned.

"Sei, I have just arrived this evening." Feeling blessed, a worried Elder Arbitrator jogged behind Theron to his Hunt transport. "Only room for a few of us," the gray Hunter said, as the Arbitrator and a High Elder piled in. "What about a Healer?" the gray Hunter questioned. Saying no more, the High Elder got out to be replaced by an out-of-breath Myn'dill. The canopy closed and the needle-nosed transport screamed into the night sky.

The transport burned like a flare over the city, and then dived across the barren wilderness until it reached the cultivated fields. From there it slowed as it passed over the edge of the jungle and began to hone in on the coordinates of the signal. "There," growled Theron, dropping the craft down to a none too gentle landing in the clearing. During the descent, he scanned the area for lifesigns and found two sizeable ones scaling down from tall plants by the edge. "I think I found two of them," he reported.

"Keep searching," ordered Aldúlfr.

Once the craft had landed, the canopy popped and three worried Hunters hopped out and began searching the clearing. They were met by the voices of Arndís and Signý, "Here! Over here!"

By the clear light of Yaut's two moons, the Hunters heard of the young Huntresses journey. Of how they separated from Ulfrde, and how they found the women and hybrids living beneath an ancient temple. Of the human female Matriarch and how she slew a BadBlood with only a blade. They learned how the hybrid males had dishonored themselves and all their females.

"Signý, Arndís. Stay in the ship until we return." Aldúlfr gave his orders to the young females. Arndís looked him in the eye as she addressed him, "Honorable Elite Elder Arbitrator, we wish to accompany you in the hunt for our sister. We are trained enough to be of use."

"She is correct," inserted Myn'dill. "There are only three of us, two targets and an unknown danger. Plus they can lead us to the ooman females and their pups."

Not one to change his orders lightly, Aldúlfr made his decision quickly. "Signý and Arndís, go with Myn'dill. Find the ones you spoke of and provide them with whatever they need."

"Understood, and I have orders regarding them from our Matriarch." he stated. "Take me to the ruin site," he ordered Arndís and they set off to find the tribe of rough hybrids.

"Theron, you are with me. Let us find Ulfrde." The gray one nodded as they set off in the small ship scanning for an Ulfrde sized heat sign. They had not soared far when they found her, a red and white figure busily dismembering choice pieces from the darkening shape that could only be a corpse.

"There," pointed Theron at the screen while Aldúlfr began his clicking chortle. Both were relieved to have found her unharmed. There was no clearing in which to land, so the Consort ordered Theron to canopy-top level where he could jump into the branch tops and swing down to his offspring.

Ulfrde was cleaning the flesh from one of her skulls when the feeling of heaviness overhead made her search the leaves far above her. It was a sensation she had felt before, when one got near the anti-gravity pad beneath a Yautja ship. The unnatural bending of branches high overhead made her stand and ready for potential conflict. Her alert status was relieved when she spied the nimble vastness of her Sire and Elder easily making his way down the thick stalks. She nodded in submission at his approach, warm pride filling her bosom.

Aldúlfr neared his offspring, his Bloodline through his eldest male, and took in the three Yautja skulls that she had been cleaning. Pegging a potential Arbitrator, regret that she must spend her days as a Bearer coated his thoughts. "Honorable Ulfrde," he addressed her, acknowledging her accomplishment by using a title reserved for an adult. "What did these fleshless bones do to deserve to hang on your wall?"

"Honorable Sire," she chose the most intimate of his titles to use, "One attacked me without proper challenge. The others attacked me dishonorably as a group. My wristblades have relieved them of the need to use such poor judgment again." She opened her upper jaws in a smile, sharing a similar sense of humor with her ForeSire. He smiled back and knelt down to run a thumb over one of the ridged skulls.

"I have spoken with your Hunt sisters. They have found a small Clan spawned by these hybrids." Gently, he broke the news to her of the hybrids disgrace – breeding their Clan sisters and Bearers." A look of pure disgust began to form on Ulfrde's face as her mandibles clenched back in an open grimace.

"I hope that honor is satisfied with their deaths," she mused. "Had I known of this, I would have secured them as prisoners and taken them back to face the females."

"Spoken purely," Aldúlfr blessed her comment. "Let us at least return some of their bones so that the females have evidence of justice." They gathered the skulls along with the weapons of the deceased from the cooling bodies. "Let Yaut scatter and dissolve their remains," he urged, as together they hauled the products of judgment away from the scene.

_Wasted trophies, _thought the Huntress, _but not a wasted experience. _Satisfied with her performance and what she had learned, Arndís led her Elder in search of the way back to the clearing.

* * *

In the bowels of the crumbled pyramid, the woman named Duncan was gathering up her few possessions as the huge Yautja, who seemed to be in charge of the somewhat shorter females, was examining the other women and all of their children. One by one, he looked at them, grunting something to the females. One of them kept tapping on the wrist device they all wore, and the other, smaller one, was running some hand-held device up and down the body of her first born daughter.

Tension still filled her as she did not trust these aliens. There had never been any reason to trust them in her past, so she did not relax around the ones who were currently promising salvation to her group. Others had come to join them – one was the largest Yautja that Duncan had ever seen. By his long silvery locks she figured he was the oldest and he was plainly in charge. He was with another one who was an odd gray color and another shorter female. Duncan saw that this female, while diminutive compared to the Hunters – well maybe not the gray one – was built as strongly as any of them!

The bulky female walked right up to her and with great ceremony presented three skulls wired together with vine. "I am Ulfrde. Honor has been served as witnessed by these gifts to you of the BadBloods who dishonored themselves by abusing you and the other females of this Clan. Had I known, when I encountered them, of their deeds, I would have brought them alive for you to dispense justice. But I did not know. So I humbly ask you to accept these signs of justice, Honorable Matriarch."

The large Huntress' head bent low, in homage and submission to the human before her, who was examining the skulls. She called to her companions and handed them the spotless craniums. One of the women began crying as she ran her hand over the bumpy bare dome. Then the Matriarch turned back to the Huntress. "That was her son. She knows that he got what he deserved, but her hopes were higher for him. It is sad for a parent to realize their child is no good." The Huntress grunted in reply as the woman stuck out her hand to shake it, saying, "My name is Duncan. My friends and I would like to go home, but we have no idea what to do with our children. Can you help us?"

"Yes, we can. A ship will arrive soon to take us to the city. You will meet my Mother, who is our Matriarch. She can help you."

All in all, three women, their two adult female offspring, two very youthful pregnant females and three female pups were separated out from the group and herded toward the waiting Yautja ship. The woman called Duncan made her way through the pups to address Arndís.

"Where are the male children?"

"They are back at your home with our Hunters," Arndís answered truthfully. She had surmised what was going on when the males had been segregated into a group following Myn'dill's scans. "They will be taken care of."

"They are not going to the city with us?" Her mouth formed a frown and sadness shaded her eyes.

"No," replied the Huntress.

"May I ask why?" The human female's voice was so soft that Arndís could barely hear her. But the grief within her green orbs displayed that she had already surmised what was happening.

"The males – they are excessively damaged – socially and genetically. They have not been given the proper upbringing. There is no place for them in our society, not even as slaves." The truth came from Arndís as gently as she could speak it. There was no use in evading the Matriarch Duncan's reasonable question. "I am…sorry," Arndís offered her hand on the woman's shoulder. "Were any of them your offspring?"

"One was my grandson," she quivered. "I had always had hopes for him, even though He was never smart and his father is, or was, an asshole. The prick raped my beautiful daughter, she pointed to the red-locked female, when she was only twelve. Her first was stillborn. My grandson was her second, and she is pregnant again we believe."

Arndís prickled at the tale and wished she had been alongside Ulfrde when the rapists had been killed. Duncan's voice came again, "So why? Why have you spared the rest of us?"

"You were spared because you are a human female that has shown herself to be brave and honorable in the face of the most severe…what is that word my Mother uses? De…de…depravity. The others were spared because they are female and were also treated unjustly. In spite of their bad upbringing – they have genetic material that may be useful to us."

"What?" Duncan roared, bringing an automatic show of submission by Arndís as they walked the rampway onto the transport craft. "You are going to use us? Use them? And what bad upbringing are you talking about? We raised those kids the best we could!" The Elder reached for the blade at her waist and stood, threatening Arndís.

"You challenge me?" the Huntress inquired, "There is no need, Honorable Matriarch. I am able to explain my words."

"Then explain!" Duncan snapped back. "I will die rather than allow anyone to use us again!"

"You will not be forcibly mated," Arndís quickly stated. "The females of our kind were wiped out by a disease. I and my sisters are the first of an experiment to recreate them. It might be that the genetics of your hybrid offspring could be of use to our scientists. But no one will rape you – ever again! We are a lawful society!"

"Not in my experience!"

"The Hunters you encountered were what we call BadBloods. We seek them out and kill or punish them as our Arbitrators see fit."

"No one came after the BadBloods that kidnapped us! It seems that we were only freed from them by some accident. I don't know for sure why they left us. Two remained to guard us, so I know they intended to return."

"What did they speak of before they left?"

"I don't know! I don't speak your language."

"Oh. I forgot, since we speak so easily in English."

"How is it you can do that?" Duncan asked, suspiciously.

"Oh, our Mom is human," Arndís smiled at the woman, her upper jaws in full spread.

"Are you threatening me?" asked the woman, ready to stand up to the Huntress.

"No. This is what you know as a smile. It's how you would smile - if you had mandibles and not lips. Now, is it possible for you to relax? Your stress scent is making me irritable."

"I always thought your kind could smell me. I'll try." Duncan took a seat near the Huntress and attempted to calm her pounding heart. "So why is your Mom human?"

"Because there are no Yautja females and your species is the only other desirable one that our Hunters could cross with. Even then, it takes some medical assistance for the pups, what you call children, to turn out well. And then the pups must be disciplined and trained in the Yautja way –or they will grow up ruined."

"Like our children?"

"Yes," Arndís answered, a bit sadly. She considered that after all this human woman had lost, she now bravely faced the loss of her daughter's and friend's sons. Perhaps with the help of the Healers, Duncan could yet see the continuation of her bloodline. Brightening at the thought, Arndís pointed to the city that was growing nearer in the port view.

* * *

"You have found a human woman in the jungle?" Sally spoke through the com device to Theron.

"Yes, we have! She has two other women with her and they have children!"

"Human children?"

"Well, no. They are hybrids – the Hunter Sires left some time ago. Myn'dill has informed me there is a problem with some of them – the children, I mean."

_Hybrid pups, raised in the jungle by human mothers with no Hunters present. A living disaster. _Sally tried to imagine how any of the Hunters she knew would be if they had not be raised with a strict code of discipline and honor. Then she remembered the group of Badbloods that had attacked them when the pups were still small. All of them had been hybrids.

"Theron, ask the females, the women, if any of them know the name Kash-ta, only say it with a click, because I can't. The Leader of the hybrids that attacked when the pups were little was called Kash-ta."

She waited while Theron carried out her instruction. He had left the link open and she could hear the muffled conversation in the distance and then the sound of his return. "Honorable Matriarch?"

"I am here."

"Yes, the Matriarch of these people tells me that her mates name was Kash'ta."

"We have found the home nest of our attacking BadBloods, Theron! The pups you see there are all the Bloodline of BadBloods. Let me speak with Myn'dill."

The line went silent again until a familiar raspy voice grated out English to Sally's ears, "Sei?" Although much more fluent in her language, the Healer still preferred to keep his words short and to the point.

"Myn-dill," Sally began, "I have discovered that the females and pups you are with, are the mates and offspring of the BadBloods who attacked me and my daughters. You recall?"

"Sei," he growled, "I remember. I remember Yin and Doru."

"Let the human females live. They did not ask for this to happen to them. Scan their offspring. Perhaps some of the hybrid female's genes may be useful to our breeding program?"

"Sei, I will. They might. And the males?"

"I cannot have any who cannot be redeemed as honorable Hunters brought into this society, Myn'dill. Even the hybrid females after you have taken their usefulness. Do you understand? It is too much risk. We have all worked so hard to return Yautja society to normal."

"I understand, Matriarch, and I will carry out your wishes. You are a wise Leader." The com went dead.

_A difficult decision yet made so quickly, so easily. I guess when it comes down to you or me – it's me, and I consider the Yautja – 'me'. I am sorry for the women. I will offer to return them to Earth where they can pick up what is left of their lives. It's the least I can do._

Sally left her quarters head for the High Council. They had requested her to examine some of their ideas for developing a new history program for the young that included some of the history of Earth, seeing as all future generations of Yautja would carry human genes. She had reviewed the plans and noted some suggestions for improving a few areas.

Included in the plans was a statue of her in regal dress-loincloth garb with a sign at her feet proclaiming 'Honorable Sally, First Human Matriarch'. She was flattered, but needed to work with the artist a bit. He had been unable to create her cheeks without putting in the least shadow of what could have been interpreted as the bony growth of mandibles along the sides of her face. As nice as mandibles would have been, she often thought, she wanted her likeness to be true and show her factual humanity.

She hurried to the Council hall, anxious for the meeting that she would usually look forward to attending to be over. How long had it been since she had looked upon the face of another human being? How long since she had heard her own tongue spoken without a click or Yautja accent? She took time for a deep cleansing breath to relax and clear her mind before entering the Hall. She would see the other Earth women face-to-face and very soon. Just now she needed to find the right words to convince the High Elders that the yearly 'Clan' competition, known as the 'Super Bowl' did not involve teams fighting for possession and the right to punish a leather oval made from the leader of last year's losing team!

.


	32. Take Down

**Chapter 31: Take down**

"_But there's no such thing as free. There are only different and more horrible ways to be enslaved."  
― __Lauren DeStefano__, __Fever_

Duncan looked in the mirror at her weathered and worn-out face. She'd not seen her reflection in so many years that it was a shock to look at it now and at first, she did not recognize the older visage staring back. Her once short hair had grown longer, nearly down to her waist. She kept it pulled back from her eyes with a worn leather thong that she now loosened to see the silver-white tendrils fall around her shoulders. Only a reddish strand here and there reminded her of their former auburn beauty. Pronounced creases crossed her forehead like the lines of a music staff, but the melody inscribed there was a forlorn and dissonant one. _Damn girl, you are old! _

Other lines framed a permanent frown cascading from her lips to the bottom of her still-firm jawline. The years of toil had not allowed any excess fat to accumulate and soften the gauntness of her face. She brushed her fingers over the bushy eyebrows that had grown wild without regular tending by the beautician. Turning on the foreign sink faucet, she splashed clean water over her face, trying to remove some of the seasons of grime that had turned her pores into visible pots of dirt. Then pulling her wet fingers through her hair to smooth it back from her face, she walked over to the high bed provided in this room of luxury within an alien city.

There was a sort of bathtub-swimming pool back in the room she had just left, but she'd not been able to figure how to operate the 'made for talons' controls. On the bed lay an outfit made of soft tan leather – a loincloth and wrap-around top that looked like they might fit her lean frame. Certainly better than the rags she now wore. The female Huntress that spoke so well had told her this was her room for now and that she would be presented to the Matriarch at a feast during the evening. She was to rest and prepare herself. _Some_ _preparation when I can't even figure out how to run the damn bath! I wish the others were here. Between the three of us we've always found a solution to things. What if they're right next door?_

Duncan went to the massive door and found it slipped open with ease. Carefully she peered out into the corridor and looked this way and that, her former police training keeping her cautious and sharp. Neither guards nor any Yautja met her still keen eyes. She stepped into the hallway and went to the door immediately to her right. It slid open, but no one appeared to be there. Entering the room she studied and saw signs of occupation – a stack of what was probably clothing similar to hers, and a neatly stored collection of blades mounted in one corner. From the adjoining bathroom she heard sounds – water was running and someone's croaking voice was trying to sing! The tune was vaguely familiar. After straining her ears she managed to make out a few of the words - it seemed to be something about the world and how small it was.

Curiosity overcame fear, and she walked her slightly bent-over stride to the closed bathroom door, putting her ear up against it. Inside, the sound of running water had ceased and was replaced by some small splashing along with the continued singing of what was becoming a repetitious song. The vocals became a bit louder and then the door abruptly slid open, nearly taking Duncan's ear with it! Now revealed in the doorway was a dripping Arndís, clad in only her birthday suit.

"It's only you!" she exclaimed. "I heard someone outside the door."

Duncan stammered, "I…I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on you. I was just curious."

Arndís looked the still dirty female over, being careful not to take too large a huff, "May I be of any assistance?"

"Well…yea. I can't figure out how to fill my tub – at least I guess that's what it is."

Arndís grabbed a large fur and wrapped it around herself, cheerfully saying, "It is a tub! It's not difficult. I'll show you," and headed for Duncan's room. With the older human woman in tow, Arndís continued singing her eternal song until she was at the mystery faucet.

"Here, you just push this, and then swing this lever. Here is the control for keeping the water inside the pool, and here is the control for the water flow. You pull this to adjust the temperature. Understand?"

Duncan pointed to the controls, "Water inside, flow, temperature. Got it."

Arndís continue to demonstrate enthusiastically, "Here is what you scrub yourself with to get clean. Mom calls it soap. She also uses it on her hair. After you get out, over there is the dryer. Just push the lighted button and warm air will blast until you push the button again. You have beautiful hair! Can I help you fix it later?"

Duncan's old voice quavered, "Thanks for showing me everything. Uh, maybe you can fix my hair another time. I'll just fix it like I always do."

"Sure. Anytime! You'd look gorgeous with some braids like my Mom fixes her hair. I wish I could do something more with my locks, but they are thick and they just hang there!" The Huntress laughed and Duncan found, in spite of her inherent grumpiness, that she was warming slightly to what apparently was only a young girl. The former officer was no longer used to being alone and enjoyed the company that Arndís provided.

"Do you know where my friends are? Or my daughter?" the voice creaked out.

"Oh, they are already prepared and are waiting for you. That's why I'm running late – I helped them get ready." Arndís gave a wide faced smile, it had been fun helping the one with red locks prepare. Her locks were exactly like a full Yautja's – only with that amazing coloration!

"I'd better hurry then!" She looked at Arndís who made no motion to leave. Duncan ventured, "I'd like to get ready myself now." Arndís continued to stand. Exasperated, the Earth woman snapped, "Some privacy would be appreciated, young lady!"

"Oh? Oh, of course. I forgot my Earth manners," explained the Huntress and hurried to leave. _She called me 'young lady' just like Mom does when she's mad. How interesting! How old is she? Much older than Mother is by her appearance. _

Duncan sank into the first hot bath she'd had since leaving her world. Lathering up with the 'soap' she scrubbed her scalp and her body nearly raw and watched as the tub water turned gray. "Hafta change the water or the floor won't shine," she muttered, getting out and draining the tub. Shivering a bit, she watched as after turning the controls, the tub was quickly refilled. Then she got into the bath to scrub again, relishing the delicious feeling of being clean.

Once out of the bath, she managed the dryer fairly well, fanning her long hair in front of the blow until it was fluffy and then she went to examine her reflection in the mirror again. Parted from the dirt, she looked brighter and even a little younger. Her hair had regained a bit of the curl it always did when it was wet and flowed down from the misshaped part that was the best she could obtain without a comb. The soap had done wonders for her face and all the dark specks of dirt were gone, leaving only shiny and somehow soft skin. Living in the dark underside of the pyramid had saved her complexion from many wrinkles and age spots – only the expression lines had deepened into furrows as the days had gone by. Her eyes rang as true and clear as ever. It was only when looking at their permanence that she recognized herself.

She went to the pile of clean clothes and put them on the best she could. Not even the clean water and soap had cleared her rough fingernails of all their debris. She frowned at them, so coarse against the soft leather. Taking one more look in the mirror, she again smoothed back the hair of the stranger looking at her and held it in place with the worn leather string. "This is as good as it gets, old woman," she told the dowager in the mirror and was about to leave to find the others when a soft chime sounded near her door. Not knowing what to do, Duncan opened the door and found an unknown human woman standing there. Human but dressed like a Hunter in woven material and leather. There were braids in her long white tresses, adorned with inscribed metallic rings. In spite of the silvery hair, she looked young to the ex-policewoman, perhaps in her late thirties or early forties but there were some lines on her face that made it difficult to place her age. The stranger extended her hand.

"I am Sally," she began, "better known around here as the Matriarch."

Duncan shook hands with the woman, noting her strong grasp. "I'm Duncan," she stated simply.

"I wanted to meet you privately before all the fuss of this evening starts. I'm so glad that you and your friends and children were rescued!"

"Not all of us were so lucky," Duncan informed her, betting that she already knew.

"So I have been informed," Sally said smoothly. "I am Matriarch, not Queen. There are many limits to what I am able to do. This civilization has ancient rules and a whole committee of rulers." She arched an eyebrow at the woman, waiting for any challenge, but Duncan had wisely decided to remain passive for the moment and learn what she could.

"Our dinner is waiting for us, may I walk you and your friends to my dining table?"

"Okay." was the edgy reply as Duncan followed Sally from the room. Down the hallway they picked up her two friends and the younger hybrid children who were being entertained by Arndís and Signý. Sally shook hands with the new women, introducing herself. Then the party entered the dining hall.

The clicking and chattering in the room dropped to silence as without ceremony, a group of humans and hybrids entered the room accompanied by the Matriarch. The foreign Clan looked about the Hall, rich with Hunter-themed wall engravings and statues demonstrating honorable deeds. Then their eyes settled upon the very much alive Hunters standing at the end of the room. The party came to a dead stop as Duncan quizzed Sally, "Why are they here?"

"They are my friends," Sally explained quietly. "They are also the Hunters who rescued you. They are all here to honor you at my feasting table. Do not be alarmed, they are not here to hurt you."

"The Hunters we encountered were ruthless bastards. We have no experience with any other kind – so it is tough for us to feel at ease around them." She fingered her knife as she spoke and looked at the mountains of Yautja at the end of the room. Each one had taken a position standing behind a chair at a large table. She assumed they stood behind the spot where they would sit and eat. Turning to her friends they had a short discussion, after which Duncan announced softly, "We will attempt to be calm around them. You said your power was limited. If one of them attacks us can you stop them?"

"Duncan, these are Honorable Hunters. The only reason they would attack you is if you challenged one of them to a fight, or you attacked me."

Duncan was thoughtful for a moment, turning over how much she trusted this alienated woman. "And how would we challenge one of them? I want us all to be sure we DON'T."

Sally had to choke down the snort that tried to emerge from her nose, "You would shove one on the shoulder if you wanted to fight him."

"Okay, then. I think we're cool." Duncan and company finished walking to the table with Sally taking point. She showed them their seats, which were all near her, thank God. The Matriarch's daughters and the Hunters were disbursed along the table in some unknown order.

"We will be eating excellently grilled steaks," Sally informed them, "along with an assortment of native fruits. Of course my daughters and the Hunters will be eating theirs raw. I hope that doesn't put any of you off?"

The two women looked at Duncan to make the reply. It was obvious that she had been their leader for some time. "No. We are used to it from when…when we lived with Yautja…before."

Sally signaled and the feast was served by the waiting Aseigan. The humans used the forks and knives from Sally's ample store while the Yautja seized meat in bare hands and began eating. Duncan watched them in undisguised revulsion as they engulfed great chunks of raw flesh. "They have disgusting table manners," she muttered, as if to herself. Then realizing she'd said it aloud, looked at Sally as her face stiffened.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that out loud. Been living too long outside of civilization I guess."

"No offense is taken," the Matriarch said generously. "Manners here are different then on Earth. I would not expect you to understand our customs. So please, when you are ready – tell me the story of how you came to be here – with your family."

"Okay," said Duncan, the best she could with her mouth full of juicy, tender steak. "You wouldn't happen to have any wine to go with this, would you?" she grimly joked.

Sally signaled for an Aseigan asking, "Theron, would you ask him to fetch some red wine? I don't know what we have in stock, perhaps you could choose for us?"

"It would be my honor," he bowed, and then consulted with the servant.

"I'll be!" Duncan exclaimed, "He speaks English so…well, and so formally. I think I met him back at home…back at the camp. Even more amazing – they obey you! How in hell did you arrange for that?"

Sally grinned and her eyes twinkled with pleasure at having a human female to socialize with, "After you tell me your tale, I will tell you mine."

The wine arrived - a lovely Bordeaux in a clear crystal glass. "I thought I made a joke," Duncan exclaimed, "I've not had a glass of wine in so long!" She lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip, "That's good," she said quietly and went on eating her meat and taking a sip now and then.

One by one, all the Hunters finished eating, as did their guests. Once her steak and wine were gone, Duncan began to speak. Theron quietly interpreted for all the Hunters except Sig'dan.

"I was a police officer on Earth, in a small town in lower Michigan. One night I was on patrol and witnessed some aliens, Yautja, kidnapping a girl. It was probably stupid of me, but I couldn't just stand by and not do anything about it! I interfered and that should have been the end of me. But I decided to survive – I let them know I was a woman.

"So they took me too and I knew what would happen. We were all immediately raped on the ship and I tried to help the others to stay calm – to survive. I told them to do whatever the aliens asked of them. And that's exactly what I did Sally – I was so scared. They were so horrible to some of us! But the one who claimed me – turned out he was the Leader – he didn't use me as badly as some of the others used the women. I thought at first maybe he even cared some for me – but I think it was just that he didn't want to injure the mother of his child.

"Some of the women died along the way." Duncan looked wistfully off into the distance, "It was horrible! But my alien, he took better care of me and I survived. We left Earth originally in an alien ship and while they were raping us, something happened. There was an explosion. We escaped in some sort of life boat ships and landed in the wilds of Australia. One of the women didn't survive the landing – it was damn rough! And the aliens lost one of their own there too. He was a real bastard. I was glad to see him go!

"Anyway, they found another ship eventually, and we came here. We lived in the jungle under the ground in the remnants of some old building. We had our babies and then got pregnant again. My daughter – the red-head, she was my first child. I've tried to raise her right. She is a willful child, but I've managed to keep her under control – unlike many of the other kids.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself. One day, the Leader Kash'ta – he gathered all the others around him. Many other aliens had been coming to our camp for a long time. I don't know why they came, but there were dozens of them! There were some awful fights between them – sometimes over one of us women! Anyway, one day Kash'ta took off with all the other aliens. He left two at home with us. And after a while, one of them left. He was like a doctor or something.

"After he left there was only one of them – a wimpy mean son-ofa-bitch too. I figured…if he was distracted enough, I could kill him and free all of us. Cuz it looked like he was going to keep every one of us pregnant if we didn't, and having one of their kids hurts like fucking hell!"

"So," humor filtered into her voice, "I got one of the girls to entice him and he sure took advantage of it! There he was, his back to me, pounding away enjoying himself and then I go and mess it up for him!" Duncan was actually laughing now. "I got him good with my knife! When he fell off, I slit his throat. And that was the end of our slavery – or so we thought."

Her tale was interrupted by grunts and clicks coming from the Yautja at the table. "It's okay," Sally calmed the females, "they are showing their approval for what you did. Please go on."

"We had several boys and a few girls by then and it all went pretty well until the boys grew up. They hit their teens and got horny and thought they owned the world. It wasn't long til they were raping their sisters and us too. They were big and strong. We tried to fight them off – but couldn't. We, the women, were sentenced to do all the menial work. All they did was hunt, eat and fuck.

"We existed that way a long time – until your daughters showed up." Duncan grew silent and looked off into the distance for a moment and then turned to look at Sally. "I am grateful for the rescue, but I am not grateful for the deaths of our youngest male children. Why? Why did they do that?"

Sally looked at her with a pained expression on her face. "Myn'dill, my Healer, my doctor examined all the children. The males were badly damaged genetically. It was decided that the most humane thing to do was put them down. I'm…I'm sorry, Duncan."

Unshed tears moistened Duncan's eyes and were wiped away with the back of her hands. "So that is my story – what's yours?"

Sally poured another glass of wine for both of them and began, "I was the Administrator of, believe it or not, a nursing home for old and demented Hunters!"

Chucking, Sally continued, "I was under orders to form good relationships with the group of Hunters who were delivering the old ones to me. So I did and it has led to much, much more than I had expected."

"Looks that way." observed Duncan as she gave Sally's Hunters another glance.

Sally continued, "You will find this hard to understand, but I fell for one of them." Duncan stayed silent, studying Sally with steely eyes.

"His name was Ulfr. He was…in every way…in a word, magnificent. Over time I came to realize that there was something wrong at Paya's House – that's the name of the nursing home I worked at. The old ones were being treated disgracefully according to their own moral code."

"Moral code?" Duncan interrupted, "These things have morals?"

Sally felt on edge but held her temper, "Yes, they live by a very high moral code of honor. It governs all they do. Do not forget that the Hunters who captured you were the scum of this society. Had we known, Arbitrators would have been sent to kill them."

"Arbitrators?"

"Our police, sort of." Sally's strong eyes looked straight back at Duncan and did not flinch. She had learned long ago not to show any sign of weakness. After a time, Duncan looked away.

"Back to my story. I helped the Yautja get their Elders out of my facility – a difficult and dangerous thing to do. And they took me with them. After a time, we – the Hunters and I – appeared before their court system and had to answer for how the old ones had been treated. Ulfr and the others were commended for rescuing the old ones, and I was honored for helping them.

"Healer Myn'dill had discovered that I had many viable eggs in my body and I consented to have them used to try and recreate the Yautja female. You see, a horrible disease had wiped them all out. That is why they started mating with us in the first place! I met some of the women who were pregnant and others who had children by them and was determined to help them Duncan – just as you tried to help that woman who was being kidnapped. I thought that the best way I could help was by contributing my ovum.

"They artificially fertilized my eggs with sperm from their best Hunters. My daughters are the result. It took intervention that I don't understand to ensure that their Yautja characteristics are dominant. More of my eggs are being grown into Yautja females even now. Someday, the Yautja will be able to mate with their own kind again and they will cease taking humans. That is my goal. It's what I've lived and sacrificed for."

Duncan was thoughtful as she evaluated what she had heard. "You willingly gave up your life back on Earth to come here and help them."

"Yes. But I did it to help Earth females. No one should be seized against their will, raped and turned into womb slaves," Sally said gently. "And no one should have suffered as you and your friends have."

"You gave up a lot," commented Duncan, still thinking.

"I did. But I have gained much also. You met some of my daughters. They are the future of this place."

"And you are now their Queen it seems."

"I am their Matriarch. This society requires a female leader – it is their way. Normal Hunters, unlike the ones you suffered under, hold females in great esteem and value them."

"So they obey you?" seasoned Duncan pressed the question again.

"On some things. Since I am not a Yautja, true power resides in the High Council, but I have influence there."

"I see. And do you…do you have relations with your Ulfr willingly?"

"No, but I did. He is dead because he caught the disease. You see, the illness that took the females mutated and caused a dementia in the Hunters as they aged. Ulfr caught it and could not be cured. He…caused his own death – it is their way. I have a Consort now, as their Matriarchs traditionally have. And the other Hunters you see here – I consider them friends."

Duncan's silent thinking continued. Sally waited patiently for her to absorb everything. At last the silence was again broken, "Sally, why did your Hunters let me and my friends and our girls live?"

"Well, as I said, they greatly respect females. You and your friends are victims and have done nothing dishonorable. Your daughters and grand-daughters – they are part Yautja. It may be that they can contribute something to our breeding program. But I assure you that none of them will be raped! If they agree, their eggs would also be contributed to our program. I promise you that no one will hurt them!"

"But how can you promise that? You said your powers are limited and these Hunters killed my grandson!" Duncan's aged voice turned vicious, "Your Hunters killed all our little boys! Was there nothing they could contribute to your program?"

Sally's stomach felt like her steak had turned into a rock. It was time to out herself. "I can promise that because I have great influence in the breeding program." She took a deep breath, "and because I am the one who ordered your boys eliminated. I am sorry, but it was necessary."

Duncan's eyes glazed over with pain and grief, and then blazed with hate. In a flash her hand reached Sally's face and delivered a sharp stinging slap. "You in-human bitch!"

The noise of chairs scraping, trumpeted the Hunters charge as they sprang forward in defense of the Matriarch just as Sally raised her hands to them, shouting, "H'ko! This is mine to handle!" Nodding in respect, they stood down. The Matriarch obviously wanted to deal with this insult on her own.

"Do not touch me again, Duncan. If you do, I may not be able to hold the Yautja back. It is their duty to defend me. Do you understand?"

The older woman made no reply, only hate encrusted her face while tears formed in Sally's eyes, "A bitch? Perhaps. I know I have changed, but deep in my heart I am still human. I made a tough decision that I HAD to make Duncan. I don't expect you to automatically understand.

"Listen closely. There is no place in this society for Yautja who are as bad off as your boys were to exist. Plain and simple. We do have servants here – they are Yautja who have failed their adulthood tests, or are being punished for transgressions. We also have slaves – they are the lowest rung of this civilization but they are still physically strong and mentally sound – your boys were neither. I have seen Myn'dill's report. I know you don't understand," Sally lectured, "but I did your boys a favor!"

With a scream, Duncan swung a fist at Sally who lifted her forearm to intercept the blow. The Hunters now came rushing up, ready to protect their Matriarch. "Stay back!" Sally ordered them. "She has not harmed me!" The Consort loosed his mandibles and bellowed at Duncan as Sig'dan and the others glared death at her.

"Sig'dan! Theron! Tell the others to hold themselves at bay. I wish to continue speaking with this woman." Theron and Sig'dan spoke to the Consort and Myn'dill – along with Sally's guards. They took a few clicking, rumbling steps backward while Sally continued.

"Duncan, you have every right to be angry. But if you continue try to harm me I won't be able to control them. Do you understand? I don't want you to die!" she wailed.

The Earth woman nodded and finally broke. She fell to her knees sobbing and Sally joined her on the floor, wrapping her arms around the nearly hysterical woman who still objected and was pounding on Sally's shoulders with her fists. As she was kneeling, Sally looked over her shoulder and addressed her Hunters. "Sig'dan? I need you and Myn'dill. Right now! The rest of you stay back! She is not hurting me."

In a rush the two Healers were at her side. "Sig'dan, she is getting weaker. When she stops hitting me, please treat Duncan. She needs something to calm her, but still leave her alert. Myn'dill, my shoulders are bruised. She is strong!"

"Sal'lee? You want us to wait until she stops trying to hurt you?" Sig'dan questioned.

"Just wait a moment, both of you!" Sally held both hands up, stopping them as Duncan continued to pummel her. The hits were growing weaker and she knew they would soon stop. She instinctively understood that the woman needed to get this out of her system and perhaps performing a bit of penance would clear any pings of conscience upon her mind. The confused Healers stood over the females, ready to spring upon Duncan should any sign of distress come from Sally.

As the blows finally ended, Sig'dan gently lifted the exhausted old woman away from Sally. He scanned her with a look of concern growing on his face. "She is in danger of a hemorrhage in her brain. I must get her to my med room now!" He handed her to the guard who followed Sig'dan at a gallop as they rushed Duncan to where she could be helped.

Myn'dill finished scanning Sally's shoulders and administered a medication for the bruising. "Nothing broken," he announced. "Thank you, Myn'dill." The Healer paused, still unused to being thanked for simply doing his duty. He nodded to the Matriarch.

Sally stood and addressed the rest of Duncan's Clan. "She is being treated by my friend and doctor, Honorable Sig-dan. He speaks English so he can calm her. I believe she may have had an anxiety attack. Sig-dan feared that she would have a stroke, so that is why he has taken her to where she can be treated. Please follow my friend, Honorable Healer Myn-dill. He and my daughters will show you to your quarters. You are safe as my guests. Please do not leave your rooms without an escort – I don't want you to become lost. My daughters will show you how to work your com should you need anything."

* * *

In the treatment room, Duncan groggily awakened to find herself on a metal table with a large Yautja hanging over her face. Fear surged into her mind as she recalled her first sexual assault while secured to a metal table on board a ship. Her right fist swung in self-defense and connected solidly with the left side of the Hunter's chin. A slight flinch was the only sign of affect. The woman made to strike again when a large hand caught her fist in mid-swing. "Please stop," the rumbly voice requested. "I will not harm you. I am a Healer. You were in danger of having a hemorrhage in your brain. I have strengthened the weak place in your blood vessel. You must rest right now."

Duncan's arm relaxed as sedatives swirled through her bloodstream, but the question of why her children had been killed would not be stayed. "You are Sally's friend, right?"

"I am that."

"Well maybe you can answer me. Why did your kind kill the young males of my family?" Her voice quavered as the sedatives still coursed through her.

"For the exact reasons the Matriarch told you. She showed them a great mercy. Would you rather have had them become slaves? They would go to whoever paid for them and their treatment would be unknown and unsupervised. Slaves are disposable in the thinking of many. Slaves are often used as bait for prey, or as prey for training hunts. Can you see her mercy, ooman?"

Sig'dan stood looking serious and tense as he read his latest scan. "You will not bleed out from the place I repaired. There are no other compromised places within the blood vessels of your body. You are safe."

Duncan was amazed, "You mean you just repaired a potential aneurysm?"

"I do not know that word," he replied.

"I think it means a weak spot in a vein or artery – a blood vessel. It can blow and the bleed-out can kill or seriously damage you. Uh, thanks for fixing it."

"It is my honor to have repaired you," Sig'dan bowed slightly to Duncan, "you are extremely brave – killing a Badblood in such a clever manner."

"Oh, you liked that did you?" Duncan cocked her head at him, "he was a real asshole and didn't deserve such an easy death."

"I agree. A longer slower and painful death would have been most appropriate."

Duncan broke out into nervous laughter at his response. "I need some time to process all this – understand?"

"You need time to think about all this. Our society is very different from how you thought it was based upon your dealings with the BadBloods. It will take time for you to trust us."

"Exactly," she replied.

"And it is your choice, Honorable Duncan, to stay here with us or to return to your Earth."

Duncan's heart stopped. "I can…we can go back?"

"If you desire – it is your right, as declared by our Matriarch."

"Hell yea!" she nearly screamed. "Where are the others? I need to tell them."

"As I said, you must rest for a time. If you like, I will have your friends escorted here so that you may speak to them."

"And my daughter? Our children?"

"That is a different matter. They must choose what they want."

"But some of them are too little to make that kind of decision! Dammit! What mother would leave her child?"

Sig'dan's face drooped as he answered her, "Some have made that choice before. Some have left their children behind and returned to Earth."

Duncan felt uncomfortable as the Yautja's expression was clear even to her. Suddenly feeling less aggressive, she ventured diplomacy, "I guess for some it might be the right answer."

"For some – perhaps." He flicked at his com and called Theron to request that he bring the rest of Duncan's family to his treatment room.

The other women rejoiced when they heard the news that they could return to Earth. Their children were just as excited and eager to see their mothers' planet for the first time. Duncan called her eldest to her bedside and addressed her quietly, "Do you truly wish to leave here? This is the society of your Father. He was a bastard for sure. But I have learned that these Yautja are decent. They have rules and they respect women. You could make a life for yourself here – you could join them."

"But Mom, I have no idea what I'd be joining! Or even if I'd want to. Can we just spend a little time getting to know them before I make a decision? Otherwise, I'm going to have to vote to go with you. Besides, I love you and I don't want to leave your side!"

"I understand that. I've been on this planet a long time. I can wait longer while you to get to know the place a little. You might just really like it here. And hey! You know they have space ships. I'm sure we could still see each other."

Duncan touched one flaming lock and wrapped it around her hand. "Baby, you look more like them than you do me. I think you might get an even break here – back home. I can't say the same. There are many prejudice people there who might make your like miserable. That's the only reason I'm suggesting that you give this place a hard look. Okay? And besides," Duncan reached to lay her hand on the younger woman's stomach, "you've got more than yourself to think about now." _Dear God, Is this baby a boy or a girl? _

"Thanks for looking out for me, Mom."

"Always, Baby – as much as I can."

* * *

Matriarch Sally tried to relax and find sleep, but it eluded her. _Myn'dill tells me that some of the new Clan's pregnant females are carrying males. I asked him to try and save them. Why can't he 'engineer' them like he did our hybrid offspring? He made no promises but said he'd try. _

_I feel so sorry for Duncan – all she's been through. One tough cookie, as my Mom would say…I've not thought about Earth for a long time. I wonder who I still know there. Are any of my known relatives still alive? Theron tried to explain the time difference – but I didn't follow all of it._

_My girls will be going on their Chiva soon. I am excited and scared all at the same time about that. Thank Paya they go in groups of three! I know that the Hunters have trained them well and they wouldn't let them go if they weren't ready. Still…I can't help but worry._

_Maybe it's the worry, but I'm so easily tired now. Guess I should talk to Myn'dill about it. How old am I now anyway? _Sally's mind ticked away in the dark as she tried to figure. Suddenly, she just had to know! Sitting up in the bed she looked at the timepiece on the stand – Myn'dill should still be awake. A signal sent from her com was returned by a rough voice, "Sal'lee, you are okay?"

"I'm fine, Healer. I just was wondering – how old am I in Earth years?"

"I will look it up." Sally heard his claws tap away on his console. There was a pause and then he replied, "You are eighty-four Earth years old."

Sally pursed her lips in disbelief, "Eighty-four! Can't be! I'd look like a prune!"

The Healer uttered his gentlest voice, "I have been giving you…things, to help you stay young."

"How long can you continue to do that, Myn'dill?"

"Unknown, Sal'lee. This is new. No one has tried it before."

"Well, I guess I should tell you. I've been unusually tired lately."

She felt the Healer's invisible ears perk up at her statement. "Can you come to see me? Right now? I wish to check you."

"Sure, Myn'dill," she joked, "Anything for you. Just keep me going til the girls finish Chiva – that's all I ask!"

_That has been my goal, Honorable Matriarch. That has always been my goal. _He informed the High Council and then set about switching his scanner to the ooman settings. _I must keep you alive until we know for certain that the new females can bear healthy pups and the new Matriarch is selected. It is my mission from the High Council and I will see it completed!_

**A/N: And with Myn'dill's thoughts we reach the end of Paya's Blessing. Please stay tuned. The girls have a Chiva to attend, and then mating season opens in full swing. Sally has just realized she has a lot of uncollected Social Security and what's ahead for Duncan and her comrades?**

**Thanks so much for all your comments and reviews. This story cast a rather wide net I am aware. Has been a very different experience to plan and write pretty much week to week instead of having most of it planned out. I see benefits and lessons in both experiences. Til we meet again.**


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